Control Alternate Delete
by Almecestris
Summary: Two years after the Hogwarts Massacre, Lord Harry Potter is given a new chance to live a new life under a new name, away from all the media attention and public. But a new life means new challenges.
1. Ghosts of the Past

**Control Alternate Delete **by Almecestris

_Standard Disclaimer_: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury, Scholastic, and Raincoast Books, and Warner Brothers Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I do not own Harry Potter or anything related to Harry Potter.

_Author's Notes_: This is an AU Harry Potter story that happens a year after his seventh year in Hogwarts (which means he is eighteen). This is not compliant to Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows but some references will be made in the future. Facts found in the official seventh book will be altered to fit the storyline. Audiences must read at least the first six books of the Harry Potter series to fully understand plot sequence. Everything that transpired before the seventh book shall remain the same.

_Warning_: This chapter is full of very descriptive carnage and gore, or at least by my standard. Those who get easily offended or upset by these kinds of situations should think twice before reading this story. You have been warned.

**-S-**

Chapter One

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, July 8, 1999, Thursday_

A gentle breeze wafted lightly past the lone figure, ruffling his black untamed hair, and he closed his eyes briefly, allowing himself to take pleasure in the cool air against his skin. This place held too many memories. Most of them good and some he didn't want to remember.

All around him was a breathtaking view of the landscape. The sun was already dipping low on the horizon, bathing the valley below in warm liquid golden light. Everything seemed so serene… so peaceful. Ruins of a stone castle stood in the distance. The same castle that he had once called home.

The gale increased a notch, whistling around him.

_One year…_ This was where he lost everything, exactly one year ago.

**-S-**

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, July 8, 1998, Wednesday_

A strong gust of wind howled, moving the leaves and branches of the few trees and plant life covering the area. The sky was dark, and flashes of lightning ripped through the air every few seconds followed instantly by loud rumbles of thunder. Lightning illuminated the general shape of what seemed to be a destroyed castle made of stone sitting on a high mountaintop, overlooking the ruins of houses and stores in the town that used to be called as Hogsmeade. The aura of the entire land bordered by treacherous footpaths reeked of death that seemed to emit from the stone castle.

Seconds, minutes and hours passed, but the darkness and gloom that shrouded the vicinity did not abate, and the sun did not emerge from behind the dark clouds. Beyond the outer walls of the castle which had been reduced to nothing but small debris and dust, in the middle of what used to be called the Great Hall, a young man was on his knees, staring into the distance, his wand was held limply by his right hand. His student robes were soaked with blood that had long been dried, making his clothing crusty and brown.

Harry's face was blank and free of all emotions, his emerald eyes no longer held that inner fire that portrayed his determination. Instead, it was void of life, similar to the drowning feeling of emptiness he felt inside. All he could see was Ron jumping in front of a stray killing curse to save him, Hermione's jugular cut open, giving her a few moments to make her final farewells. Again and again, he kept seeing his friends die in his mind. He knew it would do no good to suppress them since he knew they will haunt him forever, whether asleep or awake.

At this point, Harry no longer felt sadness, nor anger. He did not cry for he had already wept all his tears for those whom he had cared for, and the main cause of his anger is now dead. There was no point in feeling these particular emotions. Slowly, he could feel the tendrils of ice beginning to wrap themselves around his heart, shutting off all tender emotions and imprisoning them behind impenetrable walls.

He didn't know how long he remained in that position. Minutes, hours, days, he didn't care. Nothing really mattered anymore. Around him, the floor of the half-destroyed castle was drenched in blood. Blood that seeped from the bodies of the corpses that surrounded him.

It had been exactly two weeks before his seventh year in Hogwarts ended when Voldemort decided that the war had gone long enough, and launched a full-scale assault against Hogwarts. For nearly twenty-one days, the battle had continued on the large plain just outside the walls. Hundreds of Death Eaters accompanied by dark creatures like werewolves, vampires, giants, trolls, and dementors laid siege on the land in front of the gates of Hogwarts.

Voldemort's servants raided Hogsmeade, killing the young, old and infirmed, before dumping the rotting bodies before the castle. By doing so, they inspired fear and panic, as no doubt their true intention. At night, wailing voices of women could be heard up to the Astronomy Tower as the Death Eaters took advantage of the spoils of war.

Signs of life flickered slowly flickered back to the pair of emerald eyes behind the glasses as the horrified shock wore off gradually.

While the battle for Hogwarts raged on, Voldemort had issued a massive attack on the Ministry of Magic. _Divide and conquer…_ Harry snorted softly at the irony of Voldemort unintentionally using the famous Muggle quotation as a battle strategy, for all his Pureblood mania.

The support, man power and supplies from the Ministry stopped coming as the Ministry concentrated on defending itself from attack, internally and externally. The bastards also installed powerful Anti-Portkey wards after disabling the protective wards of the school grounds to prevent the people inside the castle from escaping. With the Main Floo Control Network monitored by Voldemort's spies in the Ministry, no one had taken the risk of leaving. The few who were foolish enough to try, well, suffice to say that they didn't live to regret their actions.

Life went on inside the castle; the professors were busy protecting the school from the relentless attacks and keeping the situation under control, the students fearing for their lives. Then, after receiving news that, Voldemort had launched a successful attack against the Ministry, and killed almost all of the ministry's employees, everything went downhill.

Harry didn't feel the need to pretend to be sorry at the news that Fudge had been tortured to insanity by Bellatrix Lestrange. The stupid man had then been murdered, publicly, by the lowest ranking Death Eater, probably Pettigrew, a tactic which Harry knew, that Voldemort executed to insult the portly man even until his death.

The Order had also been infiltrated. A spy passed critical information to the enemy, resulting the untimely deaths of the key members, effectively leaving the group without a leader. The rest of the group were annihilated when Death Eaters blew up the Burrow (which was serving the headquarters at the time), during a meeting.

Only the remaining few of the Order members, sent to guard the school, and the faculty faced the hundreds of Death Eaters that closed in around Hogwarts. The only thing that kept the castle and its occupants safe were the last sentinel wards of Hogwarts. The Order had been defending from afar, casting hexes and jinxes while riding broomsticks. Though they knew they couldn't last long but maintained a firm belief that their savior will find a way out of the mess around them.

In the middle of his seventh year, he had found out that Dumbledore, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, the Leader of the Light, the esteemed Headmaster of Hogwarts, Champion of the Muggleborns, had been stealing from his family vault yearly ever since the death of Lily and James Potter.

For nearly a decade, he had been stuck at the Dursleys, malnourished, unloved, and abused, while the person he would come to trust most was leeching off his inheritance.

He wasn't angry about the money. No, it was Dumbledore's lack of deference to him and his parents, two people who admired him and followed him so faithfully. Harry wasn't selfish. He would have given the scumbag half the contents of his vault if he just _asked_. Instead, while wearing the face of a kind, understanding old man (complete with the grandfatherly twinkle of the eye) he had been draining his money.

The Dumbledore's deceit hadn't stopped there. Oh no, the manipulative old coot needed to make Harry a perfect obedient weapon. Dumbledore had placed numerous magical blocks and mental modulation wards before leaving Harry with his relatives. The power suppressions stopped him from using his maximum magical strength while the inhibitors limited his logical and learning capacity. Further research suggests that the intellectual modulation wards also affected his proficiency in Occlumency.

Harry sneered at the thought of the deceased Headmaster. He knew it was disrespectful to speak ill of the dead, but the bastard did not deserve any kind of respect, especially not from him.

Because of Dumbledore, more than sixteen years of his life had been hell. Heck, he didn't know if he could call his life his anymore, with all the manipulations he had gone through.

Not to mention the old coot had intended him to die when he faced Voldemort in the final battle. Apparently, since feeling strong emotions tended to breach the block, Dumbledore hoped that the magical backlash would destroy both him and Voldemort.

_Not bloody likely_, Harry thought, scowling.

Finally finding the strength to move from his position, Harry stood up but swayed as the world around him spun, making his head ache. He vaguely felt his hand loosely clutching his wand. He tightened his hold before limping towards the exit of the ruins of the castle walls. As he walked, somewhat shakily, he saw familiar faces of his schoolmates, all of which had the same terrified and pained expression. Harry passed the bodies, sometimes having to step on the corpses buried under the rubble.

Abruptly, he stopped a few meters from the large door that lead outside the Great Hall.

The world around him ceased to exist.

Harry saw the only the soft brown eyes of Ginny Weasley, blankly looking up at the dark sky covered in clouds. She was, like him, clad in her school robes and the uniform was also soaked with blood, although unlike him, the blood covering her clothing came from her. Her legs, undoubtedly crushed, were under a huge rock that had fallen from the ceiling, and her arms twisted in an unnatural way. Perhaps it was her head and face that shocked him in to stopping; Ginny's eyes were wide open, though her left eye seemed to be crying red blood caused by a blood vessel bursting. Half her skull had been cracked open, exposing her brain to the rest of the world. Her fiery-red hair that had been fanned on the floor mingled with her blood, making her frightening appearance even scarier.

Harry closed his eyes, willing the image of Ginny to disappear but it refused to vanish from his mind's eye. Taking a deep breath, he turned away from the sight and continued his trek towards the entrance doors of Hogwarts. As he walked more familiar faces burned in to his memory; Luna Lovegood's arm was a feet away from her body, her face contorted in an emotion that can only be described as pain and fear, next to her was Neville Longbottom, his face had been disfigured by a rampaging werewolf, and his innards spilling out onto the stone floor.

Around them, twelve adult wizards donned in black cloaks and white masks were dead. He felt a twisted sense of satisfaction and pride rise in his chest at the fact that around Ginny, Luna and Neville, there were a dozen Death Eaters. They were able to take down the bastards who were more than twice their own age and had greater knowledge of the Dark Arts.

By now his knees was threatening to give out under him as he took in the sight of his classmates' dismembered bodies. Even though he had won the fight against Voldemort, he had been unstable to stop this from happening. He had not been strong enough to save them. Guilt spread to every fiber of his being before ruthlessly repressed once again. Shaking his head, he continued on, this time not stopping to look more closely at Minerva McGonagall who had been lying next to Filius Flitwick, on her side was a large gash, obviously caused by a slicing hex.

It was no use crying over spilt milk. Or potion. Whatever.

Exiting the castle through the ruins which the great oak doors used to stand, guarding the castle, before the Death Eaters used dozens of trolls and a couple of giants to bring them down. Outside the carnage was much worse compared to the inside. Here, more blood was flowing on the ground coming from the piles of bodies lying on the grass. And the smell of the trolls' corpses was almost enough to make him faint.

He surveyed the battlefield with distaste one more time before to search for survivors, all the while trying to salvage his raging emotions that were trying to break free.

Harry knew he needed to get to safety immediately. Although Voldemort was dead, he was certain that not all of his followers had been caught, especially those who had been left to insure that the Ministry of Magic stays in the Dark Lord's control. They would no doubt feel Voldemort's demise through the Dark Mark and would come here to investigate. He had already died several times that day, and even though it wouldn't be permanent, he had no intention of visiting the underworld again.

A sickly sweet smell of burning flesh assaulted his senses, making his stomach churn, and he diverted from his original path and move towards source. Something lay on the shores of the lake where the giant squid used to reside in. As Harry moved closer to what he thought was a slowly burning piece of wood, his eyes widened in realization and horror at the sight before him.

It was Tonks.

Staggering forward, he heard her elicit a small whimper. He quickly then kneeled next to her, dousing the roaring flames with a flick of his wrist. The fire was slowly burning her body. Tonks' epidermis and dermis was long burned black, the side of her face that had not yet been reached by the flames was marred with long gashes. As if sensing his presence, Tonks' eye which had not yet been burned swiveled to look up at him, mutely asking a question.

"We won Tonks, we did it," whispered Harry. "We made them pay for what they did to Sirius and Lupin." Almost barely, she curled one side of her burned mouth in what Harry assumed was a smile. "That's it, you can rest now. You've done your duty here. No one will be hurt by Voldemort anymore. Say hello to mum, dad, Sirius, and the whole lot of them for me, alright? Tell them I'll be seeing them one day, not right now, but soon," he said quietly, all of his emotions which he had been struggling to suppress came back with a vengeance. "I'll find a way."

Her face which was full of pain and fear was replaced, to Harry's surprise, by an emotion of peacefulness and contentment. Her eyes flickered a moment to look directly at his own emerald ones, before finally closing. There he knelt, watching an old friend expel her last breath as she moved on to start the next 'great adventure' as Dumbledore fondly called death.

Straightening up, Harry surveyed the tainted earth with a look of disgust. The surroundings, from the castle itself to the edges of the Forbidden Forest were _drenched_ in blood. It would take at least several days to clean the mess, even with magic. That is, if someone would even bother.

As if his thoughts had somehow made it to the big guys above, the dark cloud promptly showered the blood–covered grass with rain, washing away all the impurity that tarnished the once green lands. Harry made a sudden motion to stand but froze, now gripping his wand tightly as a quiet rustling sound came from behind him. Obviously someone or something wanted to sneak up on him. The hell he was going to let them. He had promised Hermione that he will live, and even though he really can't _stay_ dead and would eventually be alive again, he wouldn't let a Death Eater bring him down.

Tightening his grip on his wand, he spun around to face his foe.

**-S-**

Blood.

Red.

Blood.

Kill.

An urge to rip everything apart swelled inside him, the lycanthropic curse that was mixed with his blood was making him lose his mind again as his disoriented mind took in the situation around him.

The rain poured continuously albeit it's only a drizzle. Near the seemingly peaceful lake, under a pile of wizards, a man who was known as Henry Chambers managed to drag himself out from the corpses of the creatures on top of him. Blood was the most prominent odor for miles and miles. His instincts took over.

The slight crunch of the grass coming from his left alerted him to another being's presence and it made every muscle in his body tense. A scent covered in blood floated to his nostrils, and he could feel his eyes turning red as his dark blood won. It made his blood boil with liquid fire at the prospect of ripping flesh apart. He crouched down to his knees so his prey won't notice him.

Blood.

Red.

Blood.

Kill.

A maniacal smile spread across his hairy face, showing off his sharp, elongated teeth.

Another death shall take place tonight.

**-S-**

The moment he turned around, the werewolf which had been stalking him pounced with a loud growl. Without thinking, Harry aimed his wand and a red jet of light headed straight towards his attacker. At the last possible moment before the hex hit him, the werewolf threw himself to the side, giving Harry the time to take control of his faculties.

Quickly standing up, his eyes sought the werewolf before firing another curse at the werewolf. This time it wasn't able to evade Harry's attack and was thrown back by the force of the curse. It may be because he was exhausted magically, physically, mentally and emotionally. It could be because he lost his mind some time during the past twenty-four hours. Whatever it was it made him do something incredibly stupid. Normally even he wasn't this foolhardy, and that's saying something.

He stepped forward in order to get a better look at the being that attacked him.

Big mistake.

Being magical creatures, werewolves aren't easily brought down by stunners much like Hagrid, who as a half-giant was by natural enchantments.

Harry soon learned this as to when he was a few feet close to the werewolf; it jumped up, snarling, not giving Harry time to be surprised, and tackled him. Struggling would be futile, he knew, since the strength of a werewolf is thrice more than a grown wizard. Even though Harry was much stronger than most in terms of magical strength, except for maybe Dumbledore and Voldemort, who proved to be his equal, he was still physically weaker than a transformed werewolf.

However, if he didn't get this stupid werewolf off him before he gets bitten, he might just spend his immortal life turning into a mindless beast every single fucking month!

His mind worked furiously, trying to formulate a strategy to detach this animal from him and extract himself from this increasingly ugly situation. Gathering the remains of his magical reserves, Harry expelled the werewolf, using this moment to his advantage. He rolled over and quickly got his wand which had been thrown a few meters away. The werewolf was still on the ground, unmoving, but Harry wasn't taking anymore chances. But before he could lift his wand, his opponent recovered, and from the looks of it, became more feral.

Suddenly, something struck the werewolf from its side, making it release an earsplitting howl. Shocked, Harry watched as the large snake coiled itself around the fallen werewolf, clearly suffocating it to death. For a few minutes, he watched the werewolf struggle, trying to dislodge the serpent but the reptile held onto its prey stubbornly, tightening its hold. At last, after the rumbling growls turning into whimpers, the resisting stopped.

He didn't feel any joy or satisfaction when his enemies were executed, after all it's him or them, and they sure as hell won't spare him. He learned while facing Voldemort's servants, that there was only one rule: Kill or be killed.

Also when dealing with the real world, civilities and manners were just façades that make humans feel superior to other creatures. The weak becomes prey to the strong. Voldemort taught him that. Well, Harry wasn't planning to be weak or dependent on anyone any longer.

A rustle of grass behind him brought him out of his reverie, reminding him that there was another present, friend or foe, he did not know. He looked up, waiting to see if the snake that rescued him – intentionally or not – was a threat.

Looking closely, what he saw was probably the last thing he expected to encounter. Gazing straight at directly at him, not two yards away from his face, was a large snake with yellow eyes, almost seven feet in length. It has emerald scales with silver diamond patterns varying in hue that gleamed although there was no light in the immediate vicinity. The snake would have been a magnificent sight if it hadn't been dangerous. It had taken all of his self-control not to yelp and move away from the reptile.

He had thought this snake, Nagini, if he remembered correctly, had been killed by Neville Longbottom two hours prior to his final confrontation against Voldemort.As a Hocrux, it was necessary to eliminate the reptile. A horrible thought occurred to him. What if Voldemort was still alive? Disembodied and not dead, just like last time? If he was, Harry was certain it won't be long until he regains his bodyback…_again_. Harry let out a long groan. Why did his life have to be so difficult?

Breathing deeply, he carefully analyzed the situation. There were seven Hocruxes; that much he knew. He destroyed the Riddle diary in his second year. Dumbledore took care of the Gaunt ring. The Slytherin Locket, Hufflepuff Cup, Ravenclaw diadem had been taken care of when he, Ron and Hermione left Hogwarts to hunt for the Hocruxes. He was killed by Voldemort that day; therefore the Hocrux in his scar was gone. That makes six. Nagini was the seventh, but was it possible for her to still be alive after being hit by the Killing Curse?

Of course, it _was_ possible that the Killing Curse only destroyed Voldemort's soul, leaving the snake's soul behind, but he wasn't taking any chances. Extending his senses, he let his advanced Legilimency search out any sign of Voldemort's consciousness via his scar. Just as he hoped, he felt nothing.

Voldemort was dead.

Suddenly, the full weight of his realization hit him. He was free! Apart from the hurt and loss he was feeling, he couldn't help but experience a sense of liberation course through him. After three years of war, it was finally over. For some reason, Harry felt an inexplicable urge to smile. He was really free! Free of Voldemort, of his duties, and of expectations!

Nagini hissed again, trying to regain his attention.

He looked at the snake for a long time, his body remained tense and ready to attack. Why would it bother to save him from the werewolf? So she could kill him herself perhaps?

_It doesn't matter, _thought Harry, _it helped Wormtail resurrect Voldemort and that's a good enough reason for me to kill it._ Not even raising his wand, he prepared to kill the snake once again, and this time, Harry would make sure that it'll stay dead.

"_Where am I? What is this dreadful place?" _hissed the snake in front of him, not breaking eye contact even though he had moved closer.

Harry raised an eyebrow in surprise but he did not, however, lower his wand or his guard, for that matter. Looking at the reptile warily, he hissed a response in Parseltongue, _"Do you not remember? We're in Hogwarts school grounds. Your master had sent you here to kill us, me actually, to be more specific,"_ Harry paused debating on whether he should reveal more information, after all this is Voldemort's snake.

The reptile looked surprised for an instant when it realized that he could understand it's language, before tilting its head from side to side, signifying a negative answer. _"The last thing I remembered was lurking on the forest floor – I was very young then – when a human holding a piece of wood, very much similar to yours, and my mind was suddenly full of fog."_

Harry lowered his wand slightly, not knowing whether the snake was telling the truth, but instinct told him it was. _"I never really thought about you being controlled by Voldemort. But then again, a professor of mine had made a spider tap dance a long time ago, so I guess animals can be subjected to the Imperius Curse."_ Fully dropping his wand to his side though he knew the real Alastor Moody would probably be horrified at the knowledge of Harry exposing himself to the enemy.

"_You've been controlled by a Dark wizard called Voldemort for more than sixteen years, I think. He must have cast an Imperius Charm on you, total mind control, but the curse must have stopped working when I killed him,"_ hissed Harry in a less wary tone. _"Of course it may be also due to the fact that since a few hours ago, you have two souls inhabiting in your body." _

Finally, he relaxed. The snake had not attacked him even though he had given it several opportunities already. _"I suppose I should thank you for rescuing me from the werewolf. Your name is Nagini, is it not?"_

The snake cocked his head to the side as if to think. It really was disconcerting how similar this particular snake to a human, though that is probably why Voldemort had chosen Nagini to be his familiar. Also the green and silver color scheme probably was an added bonus since it was the official color scheme of the Slytherin House. _"Yes, I vaguely remember being called that, though the voice was most upsetting, so high and cold. Nagini, yes, I like that name, you may call me that, human,"_ said Nagini in a haughty fashion that confirmed Harry's belief as to why Voldemort chose her.

Harry raised a brow as the implication of Nagini's words caught up with his mind ramblings. _"You speak as if we would stay together." _Harry had deliberately made it sound like a statement, hoping that the reptile would understand his insinuation.

Apparently not.

"_Of course I shall come with you,"_ replied Nagini in a somewhat condescending tone that obviously let Harry know she thought him to be stupid. _"You've released me from imprisonment and because of that I owe you my life."_

"_But you've already saved me from the werewolf, we are even."_

Rolling her golden eyes, she refused to budge an inch. _"No matter, my life belonged to you even before I saved you from the half-breed. It was my duty to protect you, since you apparently can't do it yourself,"_ said Nagini.

This time, Harry's eyebrows went up and past his messy bangs, surprised at the sna– Nagini's words. _"And if I refuse to let you accompany me?"_ Actually, he didn't mind her coming with him. Barely five minutes of talking to her and he seemed to forget the troubles that plagued him.

The reptile rose a little higher so she was looking down at Harry. He had to admit, her intimidation factor was impressive, but nowhere near enough to intimidate _him_.

"_You should be honored that I let you accompany me, but since I had to immediate need to go anywhere at the moment, I shall humor you and come with you," _said Nagini as she tilted her head up, in a display of arrogance.

Now amused, an emotion that was very out of place at the moment since he was surrounded by corpses and had just witnessed all whom he held dear die, he answered, _"Fine then, I agree to let you come with me but I suggest that you follow explicitly what I say. A lot of people would want to get rid of a snake that had belonged to the Dark Lord."_ The odd predicament he was in seemed so surreal. Here he was in the middle of a bloody battlefield, surrounded by at least hundred corpses, talking to a snake that not long ago wanted to kill him. His life was just too weird.

Nagini backed down at chest level so Harry was the one looking down at her, and was mumbling about '_arrogant humans and self-centered prick of a wizard' _and rolling her yellow eyes in distaste. Yes, he definitely would enjoy her company.

Both pleased and entertained at her reaction, he pressed forward, all the while searching for survivor. He knew what he was doing was pointless. It was impossible for someone to live through the battles that took place here, not to mention the magical backlash that exploded when Voldemort died. Still, even if there were survivors, he couldn't forgive himself if he didn't try to help them.

Silence was once again around him but it was broken by an occasional rustle of grass and muttering hisses, letting Harry know that the reptile was still following him. He reached the border of the wards, which was past the black gates of Hogwarts, torn down when the Death Eaters had gotten passed the outer defense wards.

A large charred crater was on the ground. He had sent a massive explosion curse towards the tents that was used by Death Eaters while the siege of Hogwarts was taking place. The magic needed to make this big of an impact had depleted his magical reserves, thus incapacitating him for days, thus incurring the wrath of Hermione.

Harry had to endure days of staring at the Hospital Wing's ceiling, unable to move. His eardrums nearly exploded after hours of listening to Hermione's ramblings about 'how Dumbledore would be so disappointed had he been alive, and about not stooping down to the enemies' level and being the better man'. Honestly. She seemed to forget that they were at war and the enemy wasn't worried about moralities and principles.

He looked back the battlefield. No one survived, just as he had expected.

He closed his eyes, trying not to breathe the acrid smell of blood that seemed to be everywhere. "_Expecto_ _Patronum_," he whispered, choosing the fastest land animal in the world.

A large silvery cheetah with a hint of a familiar lighting bolt scar on its forehead burst from the end of his wand. It prowled about for a few seconds but stilled when Harry moved forward to caress its snout. "The war is over. Voldemort is dead." Moving away, he watched as the large feline dashed away, accelerating to a speed of seventy miles per hour in the matter of three seconds.

The Ministry had to be informed at once. Using a modified Patronus was the safest way to communicate in times of war since owls were rather slow and can be easily intercepted.It was the method Severus used to warn the Order of imminent Death Eater raids before he was found out.

Harry shook his head to dispel the gloom that suddenly threatened to overwhelm him. It was no good thinking of the past right now, considering the circumstances. It was neither healthy nor productive for his otherwise unstable sanity.

Hopefully, he wouldn't have to use this Patronus again for the same reason.The Ministry would have received his message already, and he had no wish to stay and face the Aurors.

"_Nagini,"_ Harry addressed the snake, using her name for the first time, _"I need you to wrap yourself around me. I know a fast way to reach my home, but hold on, the ride won't be pleasant for the first time,"_ he continued as he extended his right arm towards the reptile.

The snake didn't hesitate and slithered up his arm, before wrapping herself around his chest and stomach. Although she couldn't be seen from her current position as the Hogwarts uniform covered the most of her, he still would draw attention to himself because of the peculiar bulge in his robes. Heck, even without Nagini, the fact that he was currently wearing blood-soaked robes and was the Boy-Who-Lived, _and _that he just defeated the most powerful Dark Lord since Grindelwald.

He could only think of one place to go at the moment.

After looking at the ruins of Hogwarts one last time, he closed eyes in concentration, and near the gates of the fallen castle, a young man whose life had been filled with sadness and a snake whose free will was stolen, disappeared in a flash of white and black flames.

And even as they are gone, the wind persisted to howl, and lightning continued to rip through the air, followed by loud rumbles of thunder.

Piercing through the doom and gloom was the unmistakable soft but sharp cry of melody of a phoenix that conveyed the sorrow and grief of everyone who had lost a loved one.

**-S-**

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, July 8, 1999, Thursday_

"Master Harry," called a soft female voice from behind him. "We should head back. It's almost six o'clock."

He didn't need to turn to know who was behind him. She and her sister had been with him for almost a year, and their magical auras were easily distinguishable. Harry frowned. He would have to talk to her about that. It was far too simple for an enemy skilled at detecting auras to recognize hers.

Taking one last look at the picturesque sunset, he turned to move towards his companions. Silently, the girls held one of his hands each, and in a burst of white and black flame, the three figures disappeared.

**-S-**

To be continued…

**-S-**

Since the arrival of Deathly Hallows, loads of different ideas popped into my head. So I've decided to rewrite most of the scenes to fit into my new plot. Don't worry; the second chapter will come out before my school year starts.

The title of this story is similar to a computer restart. Harry will be given a chance to have a fresh start and a chance to live a normal life. I got the idea from Alcestis' fiction called Crossroads (it's the title for chapter nine).

The timeline in my story is kind of confusing so I just want to clarify that the Siege of Hogwarts started on the second week of June (it says in my story two weeks before school ended), and Harry finally defeated Voldemort sometime on the July 8 (although it was the summer break, the students couldn't go home because there was a battle, and they couldn't leave the castle premises without the risk of getting captured or killed by Death Eaters).

To understand the story, please pay special notice to the location and dates underlined.

For some reason, the line divider doesn't appear in so I reposted this chapter using asterisks and 'S's as dividers to make change of scenes and point of views easier to understand.

**-S-**

I do not own any intellectual property mentioned below.

_www-wikipedia-org _

_www-pawsonline-net_

**-S-**

_Reposted: July 26, 2007_

**-S-**

Reviews would be greatly appreciated!


	2. Acceptance

**Control Alternate Delete **by Almecestris

_Standard Disclaimer_: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury, Scholastic, and Raincoast Books, and Warner Brothers Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I do not own Harry Potter or anything related to Harry Potter.

_Author's Notes_: This is an AU Harry Potter story that happens a year after his seventh year in Hogwarts (which means he is eighteen). This is not compliant to Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows but some references will be made in the future. Facts found in the official seventh book will be altered to fit the storyline. Audiences must read at least the first six books of the Harry Potter series to fully understand plot sequence. Everything that transpired before the seventh book shall remain the same.

_Warning_: This chapter might be filled with very descriptive carnage and gore, or at least by my standard. Those who get easily offended or upset by these kinds of situations should think twice before reading this fic. You have been warned.

**-S-**

Chapter Two

_Grimmauld Square, July 12, 1998, Sunday_

Silence was dominant upon the small square surrounded by decrepit houses positively _reeking_ of foul odor coming from the overflowing trash can. The only occasional that can be heard was the rustling of a rather large rat which was digging through the garbage. A stray breeze disturbed the newspaper pages that lay on the unkempt grass. It was peaceful, at least peaceful for this part of London. However, the tranquility that surrounded the area was once more disturb broken when an inferno of white and black flames suddenly appeared, illuminating the area and causing the rat to streak out from under the pile of trash. Once the fire died down, a tall young boy nearing manhood stepped out, and around his arm was a large snake.

The hair on the back of his neck prickled, as the frigid night air bit into his skin. An angry hiss came from the inside of his pristine robes. Apparently, his new-found familiar wasn't too pleased with at him for suddenly Flaming without any warning. Parting his robes slightly, Nagini's head poked out, although her body was still wrapped around his stomach and chest.

"_Why do we have to travel like that every single time?" _she asked irritated, looking around at the new environment, before speaking once again. _"And why do we keep coming back here? The house is filthy," _she spat in a tone that conveyed her deep disgust regarding Number Twelve. "_It is not befitting for a snake of my station, and yours as well, Master Harry._"

"_Master Harry?"_ he asked, raising an eyebrow in question. When she rolled her golden eyes and muttered something about it's her duty to call him that since she was serving him and he better not say anything or she'll bite him then squeeze him to death, he let out a soft chuckle. It wasn't like his old laugh. Instead of being carefree, it was rather rusty and unused, as if he had forgotten how to laugh.But nevertheless it was still a laugh; a rare occurrence since the Death Eaters began their siege of Hogwarts.

"_Yes, we have to Flame to travel.__Although I could cover my tracks well, I'd rather not have Aurors stumbling over my traces Apparition tracks.__Number Twelve is my godfather's house, well, I guess I should say my house now,"_ Harry hissed, but even in Parseltongue the bitterness and regret he was feeling was evident. "_Besides, after my meeting with my account manager in Gringotts, we'll be moving to one of my family's estates."_

Not knowing what upset his master, Nagini let the matter drop. Once again, silence reigned supreme in the small cluster of house.

Halting in front of the number eleven, he looked to the left and saw number ten, he also spared a glanced at the right, but the number was thirteen.Dumbledore's Fidelius charm and other protection wards were instantly disabled at the old man's death.Harry had to erect wards he made himself as well as additional customary wards.

A couple of months back, Remus had shown Harry the official will of his godfather, found in his room a few days after the Ministry incident.He had never visited the house before he discovered the location of the Hocrux locker.The Order, under McGonagall's leadership, had decided to relocate the Headquarters to the Room of Requirements due to security purposes and the fact that the house had, quite literally, thrown them out hours after Sirius' death.Apparently, the house's enchantments had activated and closed itself from the world, waiting for the new Lord Black to appear.

Even though he couldn't access Grimmauld Place since his departed and _dearly beloved _headmaster failed to mention anything about the Black legacy – his legacy – when he fetched Harry from the Dursleys in his sixth year, he had gained access to both the Black and Potter Family Vault.At the meddling old fool's death, he had relinquished the position of Harry's financial overseer – a position which gave him the power to drain his inheritance for nearly two decades to fund the Order. And probably for his lemon drops stock as well.

"_The_ _Noble and Most Ancient House of Black may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London,_" he hissed quietly. By far, using Parseltongue passwords has been the most effective protection. The snake language, which couldn't be recorded by any type of spell or Muggle means, was the sole language that was impossible to learn. People outside the Slytherin bloodline do not possess the capability to mimic the wide range of pitches of hisses needed to form even a simple sentence.

Just as he expected, a battered door emerged out of nowhere between numbers eleven and thirteen, followed by dirty walls and grimy windows. Harry walked towards the door, all the while pulling his wand. He tapped a complicated pattern against the simple wooden door, and heard the numerous loud, metallic clicks and what sounded like a clatter of chains.

As he entered the doorway and shut the door, the number twelve, Grimmauld Place once again disappeared from the view. The peacefulness that had been replaced by magical tension when Harry had arrived returned back once more.

**-S-**

_London Ministry Safe House, July 8, 1998, Wednesday_

In one of the last standing Ministry safe houses, the few remaining Aurors worked frantically, making plans to recapture the Ministry, and send supplies and reinforcement to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

A broad, square-jawed witch with very short gray hair wearing a monocle sat the on a hard chair while examining the mountain of parchment on the similarly plain wooden desk. "Muggles, ninety-seven dead, seventy-eight in critical condition; Aurors, eighty-six dead, ninety-two incapacitated, thirty-seven missing in action…" the witch was muttered to herself as she read the reports of the Death Eater raid executed not two hours earlier in a small muggle town north of Devonshire.

The bloody Death Eaters didn't even bother to be discreet this time. They had marched in the middle of the main street throwing Explosive Curses at the buildings, all the while killing of the screaming and panicking Muggles. Of course the rest of the non-magical community had been aware of this attack. It had been in the muggle news an hour after the situation was controlled by the Ministry officials. Fortunately for the wizarding world however, the muggles had reported that it had been some foreign terrorists with high-tech weapons. But the Prime Minister knew the truth and was now demanding an explanation.

Amelia Bones, the Acting Minister of Magic, sighed heavily before closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose in a futile attempt to banish the headache. There was no time to brew a Headache Relieving Potion. The entire Britain magical and Muggle communities were in a state of turmoil and panic. Being discovered by the Muggle population ranks high on the probability chart at the moment as the Death Eater's raid had become bolder. The Muggle Prime Minister was constantly bearing down on her, demanding the capture the ones responsible

She snorted softly at the man's ignorance. For nearly three decades, You-Know-Who has eluded capture. What makes him think that there was even a chance that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would surrender?

It was nearly two weeks since the Ministry of Magic was attacked by You-Know-Who's servants. Only a fraction of the high ranking ministry officials and Aurors had been able to escape before the Death Eaters set up various Anti-Portkey and Anti-Apparition wards, and disable the Main Floo Network.

Three days ago, they had received the news that Fudge was killed, and his body was currently impaled in a large stake erected in the middle of Hogsmeade. Rufus Scrimgeour's – the Minister that replaced Cornelius two years ago– body had been found floating in Thames by Muggle Authorities.

In the meantime, Hogwarts was currently in siege, and surrounded by hundreds of Death Eaters, trapping the students inside. _It's a wonder that the castle is still standing._ Her grim thoughts were cut off when the door slammed open and a man panting heavily, eyes wide giving him a slightly maniacal look. Following the first man were two other Aurors

"Pardon me, Minister, but a cheetah Patronus appeared a short while ago, bearing a message. It said that Voldemort fell at Hogwarts. We check with out informants, and they confirmed that there is no sign of activity in the Hogwarts grounds," said the man known as Jefferson in one breath and was now gasping for breath.

Bones, stunned for a few seconds, suddenly stood up, ignoring the stack of parchments on the desk. "It might be an ambuscade, but we will have to take the chance. Get seventy Aurors and Healers over there. Search for survivors, kill the Death Eaters on sight," barked Bones in a crisp voice.

Jefferson nodded, his face set and determined.

**-S-**

"_Crucio!"_

_He ducked the red jet of light that was aimed towards him. Not wasting any time, he sent a wandless and wordless Slicing Hex towards his opponent. Luckily, unlike him, the Death Eater wasn't able to dodge the blow. The hex sliced through the man's neck, decapitating instantly him in the process. Not even sparing the man a second glance, he turned once again to face another opponent who sent a Killing Curse towards him. He barely managed to summon a stone gargoyle that had fallen from the banisters to block the deadly curse with his wand, making the statue explode into small pieces. _

_In front of Harry was a man in black robes and white mask, but Harry recognized the man's voice immediately. "Malfoy," spat Harry as he remembered the man murdered his own son, and his wife when she tried to protect him. _

_His extreme dislike with Draco Malfoy was lessened when the platinum-blonde Slytherin approached the Order in order to seek sanctuary for his mother and him, in return for information. Although Harry was suspicious of his long-term rival at the beginning, any misgivings he had was erased as the information given by Draco was able to prevent raids and save the lives of countless Muggles. Although they did not become friends, a mutual state of agreement was reached between them._

_Unfortunately, the patriarch of the Malfoy family had discovered his son's treachery. At least Malfoy loved his son enough to kill him painlessly, and Narcissa too._

_The rapid exchange of curses between the enemies continued until Harry was able to hit Malfoy with a Banishing Charm, sending the Death Eater flying backwards only to stop as he slammed against the stone walls of Hogwarts._

_Harry felt the hatred rushing through his veins as he looked down at the older man. Because of this man – this vermin – countless lives were destroyed; countless families were left, broken and mourning. Using all the anger and hatred to fuel the strength of the curse he was about to perform, he bellowed, "Crucio!"_

_He held the curse for nearly ten minutes, feeling a perverse enjoyment as he watched the man writhe and scream until his vocal cords were destroyed from overuse. "Avada Kedavra," he muttered dispassionately as his sadistic amusement ebbed away, leaving him with a cold feeling. He watched as the deadly green light headed for the man on the ground. A flicker of movement alerted him to the presence behind him before he was suddenly tackled. As he fell on the cold stone, he sensed rather that saw the deadly bright green light make contact with the outline of a body after hearing a loud Stunning curse shouted by a familiar voice._

_Dread welling up inside him, he turned around to look at the person that had saved him. The Death Eater that tried to kill Harry was hit by the Stunning curse and was lying on his back. His suspicion was horribly confirmed when a shock of red hair came into view. His savior's eyes were wide open and glassy, and his face blank and showed no emotion._

_It was Ron Weasley._

**-S-**

_Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, July 15, 1998, Wednesday_

Bolting up abruptly, Harry James Potter returned from the world in which his worst nightmares replayed themselves again and again. Taking his surroundings shakily, he slowly sank back on the armchair he had fallen asleep on. Taking a moment to calm his breath rub the grit in his eyes, he bent over to pick up the book he had been reading.

When he had arrived in Number Twelve a week ago, his magical energy was depleted due to his extensive duel against Voldemort. He had used powerful defensive spells and offensive curses that during his self-imposed training.Stumbling, Harry had almost crawled up the stairs towards Sirius's old room, and when he finally reached the musty room, he all but collapsed on the bed. He had slept soundly throughout the night and for the most part of the next day. It had taken his body three days of rest – although disturbed plagued with gruesome dreams – to restore all of his magic.

Harry had lost count on how many times his nightmares woke him up from his sleep since he returned to Grimmauld Place seven days ago. He had avoided going to sleep to escape the dark dreams that had been plaguing him ever since the war ended. Instead, he submerged himself in reading every book he had come across, committing each spell and theory to memory. Never mind that he already knew this stuff, he would do anything to stop himself from thing about that day.

When he had finished devouring the seven years worth of Hogwarts schoolbooks, he ventured into the Black library. Most of the books were about the Dark Arts, not surprising, seeing how Sirius's parents are, although a small section was devoted to tomes repeatedly proclaiming how superior purebloods compared to half-bloods and Muggleborns.

He had continued to practice strengthening his mental defenses even though he was already surpassed Voldemort and Dumbledore when it came to Mind Magics. Each night he had taken to fortifying and increasing his mental shields in an effort to lessen his nightmares.

Once he and Snape reached an understanding after the man was almost kill by Voldemort when he discovered the Potions Master's treachery, Snape had agreed to teach him Occlumency. He was still the bastard he had known, but a surprisingly good teacher once all animosity was forgotten. Still he worked hard, and before his seventh year ended, he was considered a Master Occlumens, an amazing feat for one who started studying a few months back.

Now, whenever he entered his 'mental landscape' he continued to reinforce his already numerous defense.If a Master Legilimens somehow managed to bypass his external shields – however unlikely that was – they'd be instantly sucked into a dense forest full of shades of magical creatures such as tribes of Acromantula, and werewolves.

In his mind, an intruder's magic was forcefully taken from him the moment he lands in the 'forest'. It also ensures that he wouldn't be able to either blast his mind apart. The stolen magic was added to Harry's magical stores, thus making him more powerful. The longer the trespasser stayed in his mind, the more magic would be sucked from him and the less chance he would be able to escape.

His 'memories' were stored in a fortress located in the middle of the forest, securing his privacy. His first external protection was the outermost wall made of materials harder than diamond. It was at least fifty meters in thickness and could withstand even Voldemort's strongest attack. Two more layers of walls were inside; each had a width of forty meters composed of the same substance as the first one. If someone managed to get past his primary defenses, the complicated labyrinths and passages can easily trap a person in his mind.

_Paranoia_, Harry had thought then, _is finally beginning to set in after seven years of almost getting killed. _

Another perk of Occlumency, Harry had found out that the more mastered one was at that particular branch of magic, the lesser the effect of dementors on his mind. Now, he, after months of strengthening the defenses around his mind, had no problem facing at least several hundreds of the soul-sucking monsters alone. The screams of his mother pleading for his life no longer echoed in his head.

Months before the Hogwarts siege, Harry was tutored by Nicolas Flamel, by request of Dumbledore. The alchemist had only taught him advanced – mostly Defensive – Light spells, never once straying towards the Dark side. Although Harry could understand his teacher's aversion of the Dark Arts, he still thought it was foolish to be ignorant of the enemy's strengths.

Personally, he agreed with Voldemort (though the thought made him shudder) with the bastard's general views regarding magic. There was neither Dark nor Light magic, only those powerful enough to cast them. Even a simple Wingardium Leviosa can kill if one levitates and drops a boulder on the enemy. A well-aimed Slicing Hex can cut through a person's jugular. A powerful Stunning Curse can take away life if the wand was pressed against the temple. An Incendio with a little power behind it can burn a person alive.

Standing up, he gazed out the window. He ignored the angry hissing from Nagini when she was disturbed from position at the feet of the king-sized bed. He had already replied the letter sent to him personally by Amelia Bones concerning the fate of his friends and confirmation as to the situation with Voldemort. Harry was certain that by tomorrow morning, the magical population would know what happen.

He had no doubt that the same thing would happen. The magical population would celebrate for a while, and then everything would return to normal. Gradually, they would lower their guard and turn a blind eye to the unpleasant aspects of the life, continuing to live in ignorance until another Dark Lord rises. _Idiots._

Harry snapped himself out of his reverie. Sighing softly, he returned to the armchair and searched for the chapter he had been reading before he had fallen asleep. The book was interesting, to say the least. He had found it in the section of the Black library where all the tomes about the Darkest Arts are kept.

**The Lost Art and Beauty of Wandless Magic**

By: Karkus Darkovich

_Introduction_

_Over millennia ago, when the first few hundred wizarding families came to live in the British Isles, wizards and witches were capable of magic without using wands. The most important reason why we magical folk began to use of magic wand is to help the less able wizards harness their power, gathering it in the outer core of the wand. The raw power is amplified by inner core which is an essence of a magical creature, may it be a phoenix feather, unicorn hair hornbeam, or dragon heartstring. Other cores such as vampire fang (given willingly or unwillingly), basilisk fang, dementor's skin and augury feather are wand cores that have been banned by the Ministry of Magic due to the fact that the essences came from Dark Magical Creatures twenty years after the Great Immigration. These creatures were declared dark due to their lack of cooperation with the Ministry and…_

… _approximately 500 A.D. an unknown wizard, although some scholars believe it was the first Ollivander, discovered the most effective way to make wands. Since then, average wizards became capable of casting powerful spells due to the amplifying effect of the wands. However, wizards became accustomed to using wands to do magic that they lost their ability to tap their magical core, from which raw magic that can be harnessed come from. This ability is called wandless magic._

_After 700 A.D., only few wizards and witches born with great magical powerful are capable of controlling this type of magical energy. Even the simplest spells such as Lumos can only be performed wandlessly by above average wizards, but still left the caster almost drained. During the past century only two people have been able to execute wandless magic, Headmaster Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards) and You-Know-Who, the most recent Dark Lord after Grindelwald in 1918, were the only two individuals in the past century able to reach mediocre level based on the ancient standard. To an extent, they could levitate, summon or even produce a weak shield that could endure a weak stunner. _

_Salazar Slytherin, one of the four founders of Hogwarts, was the last true master of wandless magic. It is believed that the founder had compiled a long list of spells for those wishing to learn wandless magic, although such texts were never found._

_Caution must be heeded in attempting to learn this dangerous art of magic. Severe depletion of one's magical reserves may result in death due to untamed magic or permanent loss of magical powers. _

He didn't sleep again that night; instead, he continued to read the book until he finished it. Shutting the book close, he leaned his head back against the back of the armchair. Hermione would have been proud, and Ron would have been disgusted, thought Harry, referring to his newfound habit of reading every book he had come across.

Bitterness surged through him as his friends' faces appeared in his mind. Clenching his fist simultaneously, he forced himself to relax and clear his mind.

Occlumency was really useful in reining his tumultuous emotions. Harry breathed deeply. He reached for a book he had bought in the in a rather disreputable bookstore in the new Knockturn Alley in downtown London, half an hour jog from Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, and began to read the tome titled _Ancient Magic: Light and Dark_. Reading and practicing spells and curses again and again was the only thing stopping him from dwelling on thoughts about the Hogwarts massacre, therefore keeping him sane.

**-S-**

_London, July 15, 1998, Wednesday_

"Kill Death Eaters upon sight, capture them if you can. If there are survivors, stun them first so they won't endure their pain, then use the Portkey and take them to St. Mungo's. Try not to move those with serious injuries, your might injure them further, call for Healers, instead," ordered the Head Auror to the fifty Aurors and Hit Wizards preparing to apparate to the boundaries of Hogwarts.

Seven days had passed since the Auror had first seen the mark on the skies above Hogwarts. The Acting Minister and the remaining Senior Aurors had plotted, argued and looked at the situation at every angle, analyzed every possible scenario.

At the end of the meeting, the ones supporting the idea of sending troops to check out the battlefield won the voting in a landslide victory.

Thirty seconds later, those who arrived in the lawns of Hogwarts, wished they never came at all, for the sight that greeted them had been engraved into their minds forever.

**-S-**

_London, July 17, 1998, Friday_

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

The sound of an owl's hitting the glass window with its beak brought Harry out of his stupor. It was midday now, and he had skipped breakfast, instead he opted to continue to read the theory about wandless magic, stopping every few minutes to try out a new spell wandlessly.

The book had said that controlled wandless magic was very difficult, but to him it seemed so easy. Harry was by no means weak, he knew that. Hell, he killed Voldemort, who, without a doubt, was older and more experience in dueling than him. Even after hours of practicing, he could only do the all the basics charms and some of the more advanced such as the _Stupefy_ and _Reducto_. If he was progressing this quickly at mastering the wandless spells, the book must be inaccurate at the information that it took Dumbledore and Voldemort _years_ to reach the level Harry was in after hours of practice.

Standing up, he walked towards the window, ignoring Nagini who was occupied with a rather large rat that reminded him of Pettigrew. Hedwig flew in and landed on his usual perch. He had sent the Ministry a letter and she had been gone for the past two days. When Harry made the motion of returning back to the armchair, a soft hoot drew his attention back to his first ever familiar. The snowy owl lifted her leg, showing him the two official letters attached to it. Raising an eyebrow, Harry took the envelopes curiously, after all, who would be writing to him? Hedwig, now relieved of her burden, ruffled her white feathers and proceeded to drink water from a basin near the window.

Turning the first envelope, he was not surprised to see the wax seal of the Ministry of Magic. He opened the letter carefully and unfolded the thick parchment that was inside it.

_Dear Mr. Potter:_

_I speak on behalf of the Wizarding community, not only in Britain but throughout the whole world. We would like to extend our gratitude for erasing the threat that terrorized England for decades. The newly established Wizengamot has unanimously agreed that you indeed deserve to be presented with the prestigious award of Order of Merlin, First Class. The awarding may be either a public event or just a formal meeting in the temporary Ministry of Magic in downtown London._

_The Ministry had deposited a sizable sum of gold in your bank vault as payment for your services. Monetary rewards are also given to you by other countries for your heroic acts._

_On another note, the memorial service for all the people who died in the Hogwarts Massacre (excluding Death Eaters) over the course of three weeks will be held on the twenty-fourth of July, noon, at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. All the deceased were taken to the Wizarding cemetery near Hogsmeade. Even though their bodies have already been buried (in Hogsmeade Cemetery), relatives and friends are allowed to instead, attend the service to be held in Hogwarts, in honor of the deceased's memories Although this arrangement is highly unethical, the majority believes that it would be fitting for the deceased to rest in the school they gave their lives to protect._

_Concerning the matter of the Massacre, I request that you may give an official statement regarding what happened during the past three weeks. I offer you my deepest condolences at the news of the death of your friends and colleagues._

_Sincerely,_

_Amelia Bones_

_Minister of Magic_

Harry frowned.

The twenty-fourth of July.

That was a week from now.

Without bothering to read the other letter, he dropped the envelopes and the letter on the bed, and left the room. It was too much. Sighing again, Harry reinforced his Occlumency to keep his unstable in check. This helped for the most part but the heavy feeling in his heart remained. I need to get out, even for just a few hours, Harry thought. He stood up, disturbing Nagini once again as the bed moved.

"_Young master, where are you heading? Do you wish me to go with you?"_ inquired his familiar in concerned fashion.

Shaking his head negatively, he said in a soft tone, _"No, you may continue resting. I won't be long; I just need to be alone for a while." _Ignoring Nagini's worried glance, he went down the two flights of stairs, passing the curtains where Mrs. Black's painting once hid behind.

He exited the house, not bothering to look back, knowing it would disappear again between the two dilapidated houses.

Setting off in fast pace, Harry proceeded to run in order to clear his thoughts. He heard his heart hammering against his chest, sweat cascading down his brow. Somehow exercise was Harry's only reprieve, apart from reading to the point of insanity, from either reliving what happened or thinking too much.

Turning a corner, he still did not meet anyone. Pushing himself, he increased his speed. Now breathing deeply, he felt the breeze whipping across his face, making his uncontrollable hair even messier. Somehow running was like quidditch. It was like breaking free from everything that tied him to the world. Responsibilities, grief, everything.

During the span of three hours, Harry ran nearly four miles. He staggered back to Number Twelve, exhausted but somehow more lighthearted than when he left.

After downing nearly a bottle of water, he returned to the Black Library. He read the Ministry letter again, although he was more controlled with his emotions due to the running he did, he still felt… _something_. Something he could not identify. It was not sadness or anger, for those emotions have no meaning to him any longer. Loneliness and loss, Harry thought, perhaps are the best words to describe these unknown feelings.

Before the final battle, he never really thought about life after Voldemort. He had a general picture of what the future might be like but he daren't get his hopes up. Ever since he had found the full contents of the prophecy, he knew he was living on borrowed time. Back then, every waking moment might be his last. He had a goal, and that was to make the Wizarding world free of Voldemort. Now finished what he set out to do, he had nothing to set his mind on. Knowledge, perhaps, but what use were the theories now that he had finished what he had set out to do?

Maybe he could overcome his little immortality problem and find a way to kill himself.

He gave himself a brief mental shake to clear his mind of these dangerous thoughts. Hermione made him promise that he will live, and although he had no more purpose, he had no intention of breaking his oath. _Not that I could anyways_, Harry thought bitterly.

"_Master_, _you are pale and in badly need of rest," _hissed Nagini in a patronizing tone as she slithered towards him. The dim lights emanating from the candles made her emerald and silver scales gleam dancingly as it flickered sinisterly in different hues.

Sighing softly, Harry pinched the bridge of his nose to fight off an oncoming headache. The snake's concern for him was rather endearing, but her antics of reprimanding him like a child was quickly becoming irritating. Somehow she reminded him of the way Mrs. Weasley fussed over him like a mother hen every time he met her before Hogwarts.

Harry looked at the reptile that had wrapped her tail around his midsection and was now pulling him towards the direction of the bedroom. Giving up, he let himself be dragged by the reptile to the next room where a large king-sized bed with pale blue sheets. Once Nagini was certain that he won't run away, she released him and curled up by the door, as if to ensure that he will not attempt to leave once she had fallen asleep.

Wearily taking off his trainers, he conceded to the snake's logic. He _did_ need some sleep to keep his mind from wandering to less than pleasant thoughts. Before sinking down the soft mattress, he shrugged of his outer robes, leaving him with his muggle attire of black faded jeans and shirt.

Lying down, he covered he covered his eyes with his arms. In the darkness, Harry listened to the sound of the wind whipping across the room. Maybe, just maybe, he might find something to live for again. Two minutes passed and Harry was now lost in the realm of dreams where everyone was alive and happy.

**-S-**

_London, July 24, 1998, Friday_

Although there were hundreds of people gathered on the green lawn, there was no conversation exchanged. Only the fluttering of robes and crunch of grass emitting from the crowd's feet can be heard by a bystander.

It was the twenty-fourth of July.

Near the forest, the breeze made its presence known, making the branches of the few remaining trees in the Forbidden Forest sway and the flourishing grass ripple.

At the apparition point, more people are still arriving, some alone, others with a Side-Along family member or friend. The aurors stationed around the clearing guarding area where the funeral will take place, abviously looking for suspicious characters. Other ministry officials were also on duty, keeping records of the wands of the people entering the school lawn.

Exactly five minutes before noon, a flash of flames appeared near the shadows of the Forbidden Forest fairly far from the apparition point. As the fire dissipated a figure cad in a black cloak, and face hidden under the hood was left standing at the edge of the clearing. The person, obvious male from his tall and masculine stature, hesitated for a moment before striding determinedly and silently closer to the small marble memorial, shaped very much like an obelisk, was standing on the center of the grassy area.

Harry ignored the angered hissing that came from the inside of his robes. Apparently, Nagini doesn't share his sentiments regarding on Flame travel.

The few mutterings that had started as people drew closer to the memorial ceased when a witch wearing a monocle and an expression of solemnity stepped onto the raised podium in front of the enormous white structure.

"All of us gathered here today have experienced loss, in one way or the other. Even though the war had finally ended, both sides…" Amelia Bones said in a solemn voice that Harry tuned out. Instead he let his attention fall on the hill where the remains of the castle can be found.

Feeling his legs move, he left the throng of weeping people and walked towards the ruins. The northern wall of the Entrance Hall was still standing, as it had been the last time he had been here. Although the Ministry had taken all the corpses– Harry felt a twinge in his gut – and siphoned the carnage from the lawn in order to prepare for the ceremony, the blood that spattered the stone walls and floor remained. It was obvious to him that the blood had been infused with the old magic, which was built into the mortar of the bricks, making the scarlet liquid impossible to remove.

He didn't know how long he stood in the Entrance Hall, but judging from the position of the sun, colored in a magnificent hue mixture of red and orange, it was four hours had passed. Shaking his head, he cleared his mind of unpleasant thoughts. How could he have just stayed in one spot for four hours without moving an inch? What if an enemy attacked him? Even, Nagini's muttered complaints about her being hungry were lost on him. He was a sitting duck, practically a walking target with a large bull's eye on his back.

No that it matters, Harry thought bitterly. Even death is denied from me…

Another one of fate quirks regarding the destiny of an unfortunate young man named Harry James Potter was the fact that of _all_ possible animals in the world, his first Animagus form had to be in the form a phoenix, which for all intents and purposes, was supposed to be impossible.

Of course the text materials he had been using under the supervision of Remus had no explanation to offer about his dilemma. Heck, even his unofficial guardian had been speechless when Harry had showed him his Animagus form. Only after enduring Hermione's infamous long tirades of his animal being a magical creature being completely _illogical_, not to mention (the keyword that best describes his situation) _improbable_, she told him the side effects of being _a _phoenix Animagus.

The form of Animagus of a witch or wizard is determined by his or her personality and characteristics, although not everyone ability to become one. It depends on the prowess of the wizard since wandless advanced self-transfiguration required a lot of power. The again, Pettigrew was one, so there may be slight exceptions to the rules.

Having a phoenix for an Animagus did come with certain things.

Professor McGonagall, Hermione had explained, being a tabby would have certain aspects very much similar to cat. For example, it was safe to assume that the Transfiguration teacher would have instinctive aversion to water and dogs. To battle these instincts, the wizard or witch must have incredible self-control to stop himself from succumbing to the animal's instincts.

In Harry's case, she had continued in her best teacher-voice, since his first form was an avian creature, he probably lose the fear of flying, not that he had any, of course, Ron had interjected.

Also, apart from the change in his voice – which, to Harry's mortification, became rather deeper –, he couldn't be killed… literally. Though he didn't have a Burning day every year like Fawkes, his body – and everything around him – explodes with white-hot flames. Every nerve of his body would be filled with hot, burning sensations, leaving him slightly numb yet completely refreshed. The first time his Exploding Day occurred was witnessed embarrassingly by Severus, whom he had been working with. Apart from almost incinerating his former professor, _and_ annihilating the man's personal lab, Harry's robes burned to ashes, leaving the two of them in a very awkward moment. It was officially the most humiliating day of his seventeen years of life.

Of course, once he found out that he had a second Animagus form and that it would be once again a magical creature, he promised himself that he would stop being so surprised. The strange thing was that he could turn to _that_, an animal closely related to the large snake he had killed in his second year. As an African Spiketail Basilisk, a rare hybrid of a basilisk and a dragon from western Africa, he had the ability to fly, release poisonous gases and acidic venom, and kill with a stare.

At first, he was worried that even in human form, his death glare might activate suddenly, resulting in dire consequences. After going almost a month wearing ridiculous Muggle shades and avoiding his friends, he finally decided it was safe, though he continued to keep it a secret. He didn't want to risk injuring one of his friends by getting angry and accidentally snuff their lives out. So to everyone's knowledge except Remus, although he never showed it his professor, he only had one Animagus.

By the time he accomplished his third form – second form to the others – and showed it to his friends, Hermione was raving. Harry couldn't remember seeing her so worked up during the five years he had known her, and when talking about the brightest witch of her generation, that was saying something. Compared to the other forms, and still a magical beast, it was probably the most useful and amazing. Being a Morphanima, an extinct creature from Iceland, he was capable of changing to any type of non-magical animal. It was the ultimate Animagus form. At first he was thrilled about the fact but once both Hermione and Professor McGonagall started hounding him with questions, he began to have his doubts.

Still, the_ three_ Marauders would have been proud at him being an unregistered Animagus. At least, Remus told him his dad and Sirius would be…

He walked back towards the eerie plain. The crowd had dispersed nearly an hour ago. He stopped in front of the marble tower. Slowly, Harry scanned the names embossed on the stone with golden letters. He stopped occasionally as he read a familiar name before moving on. As he shifted to read another section, his breath caught in his throat. Tracing his finger on the names, he was lost in his memories.

_**National Heroes (Order of Merlin)**_

_Hermione Jane Granger - Order of Merlin, First Class_

_Neville Frank Longbottom - Order of Merlin, First Class_

_Luna Ameline Lovegood - Order of Merlin, First Class_

_Draco B. Malfoy – Order of Merlin, First Class_

_Minerva Emmeline McGonagall - Order of Merlin, First Class_

_Severus Aiden P. Snape - Order of Merlin, First Class_

_Nymphadora Selene Tonks - Order of Merlin, First Class_

_Ginevra Molly Weasley - Order of Merlin, First Class_

_Ronald Bilius Weasley - Order of Merlin, First Class_

For the second time in two weeks, the sharp loud cry pierced through the sadness that surrounded the area. Harry's head jerked up, his hand leaving the marble stone, and reflexively reaching for his wand strapped his wand holster. As the source of the noise came into view, an expression of surprise appeared on his face but was quickly replaced with small bittersweet smile.

"Fawkes."

Soaring in the cloud-covered sky was a large bird with covered in red and gold feathers that danced and gleamed under the setting sun. The music emitting from the phoenix washed over him, filling him with warmth and momentary peace. Fawkes flew from the direction of the Forbidden Forest, flapping his Gryfindor-colored feathers in a hypnotizing manner. As the phoenix landed on his outstretched arm, Nagini shifted heatedly, coming out of her hiding place to glare at the magical bird. Apparently she doesn't take too well in sharing her master with another bird.

"_Another one?! Go away, you stupid bird,"_ the adder hissed, her fury evident, "_you and that white owl are not welcome here!"_ Harry watched slightly amused at the fact that she was nearly spitting in fury, at the same time worried that an all-out clash might take place. However, he soon found out that he needs not to be worried, for Fawkes only ruffled her feathers indignantly and paid no attention to Nagini. This seemed to irritate her further as she spluttered incoherently in parseltongue.

"_Harry Potter,"_ acknowledged the phoenix, bowing its head slightly.

Harry who had been watching the magical creature with a melancholic expression, jumped slightly in surprise as a voice, which he assumed belonged to Fawkes, filtered into his head. But somehow, once the shock wore off and after thinking about it, the phoenix able to communicate with wasn't really impossible.

Then again, Harry had a phoenix Animagus. Maybe he could talk to other animals as well.

Over the summer before his seventh year, he had been closer to Fawkes than he had been to Ron and Hermione during the past seven years. He had suspected that Dumbledore had ordered his familiar to watch over Harry before his death. During the summer vacation, the phoenix suddenly appeared out of thin air, scaring the Dursleys shitless. He grinned as he remembered the expression of ultimate terror on Dudley's piggish face.

"Fawkes?!"Harry exclaimed incredulously. They looked at each other for a long moment, sizing one another. It was strange to see a familiar face after nearly days of isolation, even though it was just a magical bird.

It was Dumbledore's familiar who broke the interlocked gaze. Turning to look at the marble that held everyone's names, Fawkes let out a soft mournful trill.

Harry looked at the marble stone briefly before turning his attention back to Fawkes. It seemed so surreal that everyone was gone, that only he and Fawkes are left. He hadn't cried since he left Hogwarts sixteen days ago but now, the urge to do returned full force. Forcing himself to suppress these troubling emotions and sighed.

Voldemort is finally dead, he thought, but so is everybody else. It was too much.

Sternly telling himself to accept the fact that everyone was gone, he couldn't wish but hope…

Once again, the soft grieving melody filled the area, telling of mourn and loss, and also about strength and survival.

**-S-**

I know there I know there isn't much plot development right now but in the next chapters, everything will start to move. Also, I just wanted to make sure that there are no things left in the dark. After reading many fics about Harry going to another dimension/time after the war, I noticed that he just left without even making sure that everyone was laid to rest. Well, this is just something I wrote up to make it seem more realistic.

Another thing, I apologize if my portrayal of Harry being depressed not very good but as my profile says, I'm only fourteen. I'll do my best to keep the characters from being too OOC. Like many others, Harry deals with depression by working and studying to keep his mind from thinking too much.

For those who are confused, when Harry and Nagini are having a conversation, they're obviously speaking in parseltongue. I won't make any special stuff to the indicate Parseltongue conversation (just italics and the quotation marks).

I suppose Harry having multiple Animagus was a bit too much, but still I like it that way. Ok, I know that before I didn't tell you guys outright the names of his Animagus forms but I decided to be blunt just in case I create confusion and mess up the whole story.

This chapter is not edited well due to my lack of observation skills. I would be forever grateful if one of you can tell me if I have missed or added something wrong, so I could change it and not drain your interest with my inclination to using grammar and spelling words wrong.

**-S-**

I do not own any intellectual property mentioned below.

_www-wikipedia-org_

**-S-**

_Reposted: August 2, 2007_

**-S-**

Reviews would be greatly appreciated!


	3. Isolation Ended

**Control Alternate Delete **by Almecestris

_Standard Disclaimer_: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury, Scholastic, and Raincoast Books, and Warner Brothers Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I do not own Harry Potter or anything related to Harry Potter.

_Author's Notes_: This is an AU Harry Potter story that happens a year after his seventh year in Hogwarts (which means he is eighteen). This is not compliant to Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows but some references will be made in the future. Facts found in the official seventh book will be altered to fit the storyline. Audiences must read at least the first six books of the Harry Potter series to fully understand plot sequence. Everything that transpired before the seventh book shall remain the same.

This chapter tells what happened after the Massacre. Please pay special attention to the dates to avoid confusion.

Thank you for those who updated for the last two chapters.

_Warning_: This chapter might be filled with very descriptive carnage and gore, or at least by my standard. Those who get easily offended or upset by these kinds of situations should think twice before reading this fic. You have been warned.

**-S-**

Chapter Three

_Grimmauld Square, July 27, 1998, Monday_

Stir the potion halfway in a counterclockwise direction before adding the moonleaf roots – harvested on a lunar eclipse, precisely at midnight – and brewed for thirteen days prior to the waxing gibbous moon, Harry mentally recited the thirteenth step of Severus' altered (not to mention enhanced) variation of the Invigoration Potion before wandlessly casting a nonverbal stasis charm on the cauldron to let it brew for twenty-seven minutes. He lowered the temperature of the fire crackling under the pewter cauldron, and scooped three-fourths of the potion. He put the Invigoration Potion in a dozen glass vials charmed with an unbreakable charms, and placed it on the table.

Harry downed a vial of the rejuvenation potion, and immediately felt all the weariness leave his body as liquid fire spread throughout his body, burning the exhaustion away. Although he knew his body won't last long without sleep, it was essential that he complete this potion.An alarm echoed throughout the potions lab. Moving across the room he came towards the slightly smaller silver cauldron, and lifted the freezing charm. The potion immediately turned aquamarine, signaling its readiness for the next step.

A flicker of movement in the corner made Harry know that Nagini had entered the room. He tuned out her hissing about not spending time with her and proceeded to drop three pints of quicksilver on the mixture, turning in into a pale shade of lilac.

"_Young master, you have not slept for nearly three days,"_ hissed Nagini, her tone colored with concern.

She did not slithered up his leg, as she had been customarily been doing, and settled on his shoulders with her tail curled around his arms. It was fairly obvious that her human was busy making something important. Something for her maybe? She _was_, after all, the most beautiful snake in existence, and he might want to give her a gift. Nagini waited patiently for his answer, all the while entertaining thoughts of the possible gifts, namely food, he might give her. A large bunny perhaps? Or that blasted red and gold turkey that had came home with them after their visit to Hogwarts that kept on singing and singing and singing?

Harry had heard her reprimand but didn't say anything.He was in one of the most crucial steps in making the potion.Stirring the mixture, he carefully made sure that the silver rod did not touch the sides of the cauldron, wary of an explosion due to friction and the unstable ingredient compounds.Immortal or not, he didn't want prove Snape's right.

He poured the crushed bicorn horn and waited for exactly sixty-seven seconds before adding the pomegranate extracts.Immediately after the juice was poured, he cast a Cooling Charm, lowering the temperature to nearly zero degrees before abruptly ending the spell and applied a stronger version of the Heating Charm, creating blue flames that shrouded the cauldron.Sweat dripped from his brow as the fire continued to grow hotter.

Not even bothering to look up, he flicked his wrist, summoning a small vial from the shelf. A tiny crystal bottle flew directly to his palm with a resounding_ smack_. It contained a few drops of red, viscous liquid that tossed against the sides of the vials.

The clanking and clinking sound of glass let Harry know that the ingredients cabinets rearranged themselves once more. It was Severus' own invention. A tidal wave of emotions once again reared up, almost drowning Harry in its intensity. Snape had been tortured by Bellatrix for weeks before he was killed by disembowelment. Harry began to breathe faster, his heart racing. But before he would be suffocated with his unruly emotions, he strengthened his Occlumency barriers.

Drawing a deep breath, he steadied his slightly shaking hands and uncorked the vial.

The liquid he now held in his hands was blood from a female Silverscale dragon, and from what he read in one of Severus' book, it was extremely rare and sought after to say the least.The Silverscale species had played a major part in the Dragon Wars over four millennia ago.They became extinct during the medieval times when dragon hunting flourished.Not that Muggles can actually easily kill an adult dragon; instead they killed all the females who were weak and hibernated after laying the eggs.A Muggle, known as St.George was the person who caused the extinction of the species by smashing hundreds of vulnerable eggs.

Slowly, by the early eighteenth century, the whole species had been wiped out from existence.Only then the Wizarding community had found out that blood Silverscale was the most potent ingredient in making some of the most useful yet illegal potions by the Ministry's standard.Even Voldemort tried, although unsuccessfully, to resurrect a female dragon and tried to get it to mate with a Norwegian Hornback – a dragon with nearly the same characteristics except for the hide color – just to get it to reproduce.

Harry blinked and shook his head, smiling softly. He was starting to sound like Hermione again with all the mental ramblings that came rather often these days.

He had to stay still for nearly ten minutes to withdraw into his mind and strengthen his emotional barriers. And sometimes if it was too strong for him to stop it, he is dissolved to a mess, drinking bottles of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey to make him forget everything. But now, although his still felt a pang of sadness lance through him, everything is much more manageable.

Carefully, Harry poured three drops at the correct time intervals. This was the trickiest part of the brewing process. If he had made a single error or overlooked an unimportant factor, such as the cleanliness of the ingredient bottle he was using, the potion would be ruined and he would have to start from scratch again.

Finally, he lowered the temperature on the flame and cast a protective spell around the cauldron to ensure its safety, letting it brew for a few hours before the next set of ingredients was to be added. Harry sank in to the soft armchair located a good distance away the bubbling cauldron, and turned to answer Nagini who had slithered up to the arm of the lounger.

Absently, Harry stroked Nagini's head and watched her close her eyes lazily in delight. _"I apologize for not answering you sooner,"_ Harry hissed softly, _"but I can't afford to lose my concentration while brewing this potion. And I don't have the time to rest, maybe after the potion is completed, but not now."_

Disgruntled, Nagini was prepared to retort but upon looking at her master's weary eyes, she merely flicked her tongue at him. _"Very well. After what you have to do is finished, you must sleep. Your weak human body cannot withstand exhaustion, and using Invigoration Potion is addicting, not to mention dangerous."_ She wrapped herself on his arm, rather tightly. _"Promise me you shall rest," _she hissed in motherly tone which earned her an amused glance from Harry.

Being isolated from the rest of the world was rather lonely sometimes but Harry would pick Nagini's companionship over hounding reporters and fanatics. Glad that he had the initiative to take the serpent with him, he continued to stroke her scaly head. _"Sometimes it's rather hard to believe that you once belonged to Tom. You sound very much like my best mate's mom, such a mother hen."_

"_I do _not _belong to that snake human!" _she said indignantly, nearly spitting in her fury,_ "and you haven't promised me yet!"_ She coiled herself around his arm tighter. _"Promise me or I'll bite you! I won't fall for that trick again!"_

Harry was definitely amused now. Seeing her in a snake's version of apoplectic rage is downright entertaining._ "Really? You threatening to bite me sound really Voldemort-ish."_

By this time, Nagini was really squeezing his arm to the point that his fingers became numb. Irate to the point of exploding, she hissed dangerously to his face one last time before slithering angrily down Harry's arm, and out of the room.

Shaking his head slightly at her overly maternal instincts, Harry stood up as the alarm he had put on the second cauldron of the Headache Potion sounded, signaling its completion.He approached the cauldron while flicking his right hand to summon more empty vials.He scooped the finished potion with a bronze ladle and put it into the glass vial.Harry downed the potion in one gulp and instantly the migraine that had been plaguing him for days vanished.

He grinned slightly. "Three…Two…One…"

The wooden door slammed loudly as it hit the wall when Nagini pushed it open with her large body._ "You didn't promise me yet!" _she said accusingly.

Laughing softly at his familiar's antics, he responded with calmly with suppressed merriment. _"Well, it's not my fault that you are so gullible and easy to manipulate, and–… ouch!"_

**-S-**

_The Evening Prophet_

_July 19th, 1997_

_**He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named Defeated by The Chosen One**_

_**Ministry releases official statement regarding to You-Know-Who's demise**_

_By: Perenate Winglead_

_Acting Minister Amelia Bones had officially announced the defeat of You-Know-Who at the hands of the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter, whose current location is unknown as of now. The press conference was held at the new Ministry of Magic located at the southern part of Diagon Alley. _

"_Rest assured that the Ministry is doing its best repairing the damage You-Know-Who had caused to the British Wizarding community," Acting Minister Bones addressed the reporters at the conference._

_The newly-established Magical Law Enforcement is currently searching for rogue Death Eaters who managed to escape from the Hogwarts Massacre. Auror Weller, head of an Auror division snapped as he hurried away, "For the last time, we are doing our best to locate every personnel involved in the Massacre, now go away or I'll hex you right up –" (To ensure the propriety of this newspaper, Weller's continued comments remained unwritten.)_

_From the information Daily Prophet journalists have gathered, it can be safely said that the Ministry is also looking for Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Defeated-The-Dark-Lord- Again, for what reason, Daily Prophet reporters have no lead as of yet. Although a reliable inside source in the Ministry says that rumors are circulating that the Acting Minister is planning to award Mr. Potter Order of Merlin, Grand Sorcerer – the highest and extremely prestigious honor of the Order of Merlin– for defeating the Dark Lord. Further research conducted by the Daily Prophet reveals that the last recipients of the Order of Merlin, Grand Sorcerer were Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff, and Salazar Slytherin for founding Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

_Parents of the students whose lives were lost in the Massacre offer their deepest thanks to Mr. Potter for finally defeating You-Know-Who; Mr. Li Chang, father of Cho Chang, a seventh year Ravenclaw said as he comforted the crying Mrs. Chang at the commemoration ceremony in Hogsmeade a week ago, "We are extremely grateful to Harry for what he has done. I'm sure that Cho would feel the same way." Augusta Longbottom, mother ex-Aurors, Frank and Alice Longbottom, both confined in St. Mungo's Long Term Spell Damage Ward stated, "My grandson, Neville – a good friend of Harry Potter's, who fought the Death Eaters in the Ministry of Magic two years ago, and was one of the… _(ctd. page 2, column 4)

_See page 5-10 –__** Harry Potter's Life in Hogwarts: An Insider's Account**_

_See page 12 – __**Interview with Head Auror, Preston Williams, (Detailed Account on Arrested Death Eaters)**_

_See page 14 – __**St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies Opens First Branch in Diagon Alley**_

**-S-**

_The Morning Prophet_

_July 21, 1997_

_**Ministry of Magic Announces Agreement Made With French Ministry**_

_**Deal is sealed between the Ministries regarding education**_

_By: Perenate Winglead_

_The European Wizarding Summit was finally finished after being held for three days in an unknown and secure location. All the Ministries in the continent had sent representatives of their Ministries to the symposium. Much has been discussed regarding the fall of You-Know-Who especially since foreign Death Eaters have terrorized other countries under You-Know-Who's orders._

_One of the topics in the Wizarding, Fredrick Wallace, Head of the Department of Foreign Affairs, had revealed to Daily Prophet was education. While Hogwarts' board of governors are discussing the possibility of the school being rebuilt and opened, Acting Minister Bones has agreed to build the first British Wizarding Embassy in France to help the British Wizards who are emigrating to the country across the English Channel._

_Madame Olympia Maxime, the headmistress of Beauxbatons Academy for Witchcraft and Wizardry, the largest European school of wizardry located in southern France, has agreed to accept students from Hogwarts at such short notice. The fifth and seventh years who were supposed take their O.W.L.S and N.E.W.T.S at the third week of June, are now given ample time to study, due to the incident in Hogwarts, and are to sit their exams on August 21 in Beauxbatons. The board of governors of Beauxbatons stated that they shall modify their tests to fit the Hogwarts curriculum. Also, the board decided that for the younger students (fourth year and below) who shall attend Beauxbatons, are to sit their examinations at the same year as the students in the French school (sixth year of O.W.L.S and seventh year for N.E.W.T.S). (_ctd. page 4, column 2)

_See page 1 – __**Aurors find You-Know-Who's corpse (article and photo is not suited for children)**_

_See page 2 – __**Healers from St. Mungo's finds in Bellatrix Lestrange corpse (article and photo is not suited for children)**_

_See page 3 – __**Death Eaters arrested in New Hampshire**_

**-S-**

While the potion was to be left alone for exactly seven hours and thirteen minutes, Harry emerged from the potions lab and headed to the library. As he walked down the hallway, the candles, whose pure silver candelabras were attached to the wall and molded into snake figures with emeralds for eyes, glowed eerily. It was strange that he began noticing small details about the Grimmauld Place in three weeks than during his brief stay before fifth year.

Maybe he was too distracted with him being anxious at his upcoming trial in the Ministry, and upset at Ron being chosen prefect.

The color theme of the house, he observed was green and silver, obviously Slytherin colors. Carpets and curtains, once cleaned with a simple charm, had been the exact shade of Slytherin green, and were lined with complex embroidery that was made of, as far as he could tell, pure silver thread.

Another strange fact was that it didn't disturb him as much as his newly found pet peeve, the Gryffindor colors. Ron would be utterly shocked to know that to Harry Potter, Gryffindor Golden Boy, the deep, rich red reminded him of freshly spilt blood, and the bright golden hue brought to mind the magical flames that engulfed and reduced Hogwarts to a pile of burnt rubble.

A quiet sound at his feet followed him. He ignored it and made his way calmly to the Black Library. Entering the French oak doors, a fire automatically ignited in the fireplace, warming the room slightly and giving it enough light to enable to see things clearly without needing to cast _Lumos_.

As he sat on the cozy armchair by the fire, Harry felt Nagini slither up and wrapped her long body around his waist, torso and neck. She flicked her tongue, and he complied with her silent request and stroked her gently her scaly head. No words were exchanged, both reveling in the peaceful silence.

The small table with masterly carved wooden snakes entwining each others as legs, near the lounger was covered in large, dusty tomes. He reached out the book he had been reading earlier. Nagini tightened his grip on his body slightly, causing him to drop the book on top of it. The loud crash of the heavy book stirred the dust on the floor and destroyed the silence. Fawkes who was perched on a wooden stand near the couch squawked indignantly the moment he sensed the snake. The phoenix had insisted to come with him, and brushed his protest aside. Consequentially, Nagini was not interested in sharing her human, and with a bird no less.

Bending to pick up the fallen book, he saw an envelope with the Gringotts wax seal stamping it shut. It was the other letter that had arrived along with the invitation to attend the memorial. He opened it without preamble, ignoring Nagini and Fawkes bickering that consisted of hissing and trilling noises. Curiously, he unfolded the parchment and scanned it quickly.

_Dear Mister Potter:_

_Your presence is required at the Gringotts Bank, Diagon Alley as soon as possible after your seventeenth birthday. Since you are of age for nearly a year, the transference of your inheritance to your name is required. Due to recent events, an impressive amount of galleons had been added to your account, as well as a number of noble titles. Please ask for Heldok, your personal financial solicitor, selected by your parents to handle the family assets. Please send your reply with a date suited to your schedule forthwith._

_May your gold flow,_

_Rimrod Frockley_

_Head Goblin of Inheritance Office, Gringotts Bank_

_P.S. Give the envelope attached to this letter to the goblin guards stationed outside of Gringotts to avoid the long inquiries. _

He had forgotten about his seventeenth birthday. _Was it that near already? _Frowning, he made a mental note to go to Gringotts and sort this matter out soon. Harry stood and headed to the desk, rummaging the drawers for quill and parchment. After scribbling an equally brief reply, he sealed it in an envelope using wax from a candle.

"Hedwig," he called to his owl. A blur of white flew from the perch beside Fawkes and landed gently on his shoulder. The snow-colored owl gave her master a soft hoot, but looked scornfully at the reptile wrapped around him. "Take this to Gringotts," said Harry. "Return quickly, all right?" Hedwig gave one last hoot in understanding before swooping out of an open window. He watched her fly away until she became a white speck in the black sky.

As he went back to sit down, Nagini huffed and opened her mouth to start speaking. _"I don't know why you even bother with birds. Snakes are much better and certainly more useful."_

Harry opened a book called _Alternate Universes: Fact or Fiction_ by Sandrine Almedrius before replying. _"Are you sure about that? Can you fly?"_

She opened her mouth, presumably to let out a scathing remark, but closed it after a few seconds, stumped. Satisfied that he had prevented a long diatribe about the marvelous qualities of snakes and the serpent's superiority over other creatures, he started to read the section he had dog-eared a while ago.

**-S-**

_Diagon Alley, July 28, 1998, Tuesday_

Wearing black Muggle slacks and dark green shirt underneath his cloak, he had chosen to forego breakfast and head to Gringotts. After a quick banter of bickering – and losing – against Nagini, whom he found out quite recently, held an impressive array of colorful vocabulary, he got ready with Nagini wrapped around him in an unnoticeable way. His wand safely attached to the wand holster on his arm, ready at any moment's notice. Voldemort's wand, found and given to him by the his snake as revenge for being imprisoned for years, was holstered on his leg in case by some minute chance someone could catch him off guard and disarm him.

Flaming to a deserted alley littered with trash, he shushed a loudly hissing Nagini who was complaining about being mishandled. As he stepped out to the main street, he had to admit that Diagon Alley was looking much better than the last time he saw it.

A few months before the destruction of Hogwarts, the Order members had successfully located and rescued Ollivander from one of Voldemort's minor forts in Scotland.It had been a major victory for them to recover the wandmaker. For nearly a year, everyone who needed a wand had to make do with generic wands sold by other wandmakers. The generic wands had crippled the user's magical usage, making it harder to cast even the easiest curses.

However, their triumph was short-lived.Months before the Massacre, Severus was given the opportunity to send a warning via Patronus that the Dark Lord had organized an attack on Muggles in downtown London, as well as Diagon Alley.

When the Order, plus Harry, Apparated to an alley near Leaky Cauldron, about twenty Death Eaters who had emerged from Diagon Alley were terrorizing helpless Muggles shopping in the area.

They made quick work of the masked wizards since they were obviously new recruits who had no battle skills whatsoever. Upon entering the pub, they found Tom, the barkeeper, dead on the floor, lying on a pool of his own blood. His old face twisted in a fearful and pained expression. Apparently the Death Eaters they had subdued weren't rookies when it came to torturing people with low-level Dark magic.

It was pure chaos when the group came to Diagon Alley. Figures clad in dark robes and white masks fired Killing Curses to the public and Blasting Curses to the buildings. Screams of fright, wails of pain and explosions were the only sounds heard in the shopping district. Harry and the others tried to help as many people as they could but the Death Eaters swarmed like locusts. For each man that fell, five took his place.

Harry closed his eyes, the scenario of violence and gore played in his mind vividly. The faces of the people he had failed to save. The mocking laughter of Voldemort as he killed his friends in front of him, while he was helpless to do anything. Ginny's warm smile replaced by her pale, blank face covered by blood.

He opened his eyes, and sighed softly. Emerging the in the shadows of the alley next to the Apothecary, he strode purposely towards his destination. He ignored the few shoppers who glanced warily at him due to the rather shady hood covering his face.

**-S-**

That's the third chapter! Sorry for the long wait. To make it up to you, I'm already editing the fourth chapter so it will be up sometime in the next week. Still no plot development, but as I said, everything would be revealed at the right time.

Just to clarify for those who are confused, this chapter and maybe the next two or three tells what happened after Hogwarts Massacre. The real story will happen the year after, where Harry's going to turn nineteen. Please pay close attention to the dates (the year, to be more exact) to fully understand the story.

**-S-**

_Reposted: August 11, 2007_

**-S-**

Reviews and criticisms would be greatly appreciated


	4. A Day in Gringotts

**Control Alternate Delete **by Almecestris

_Standard Disclaimer_: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury, Scholastic, and Raincoast Books, and Warner Brothers Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I do not own Harry Potter or anything related to Harry Potter.

_Author's Notes_: This is an AU Harry Potter story that happens a year after his seventh year in Hogwarts (which means he is eighteen). This is not compliant to Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows but some references will be made in the future. Facts found in the official seventh book will be altered to fit the storyline. Audiences must read at least the first six books of the Harry Potter series to fully understand plot sequence. Everything that transpired before the seventh book shall remain the same.

_Warning_: This chapter might be filled with very descriptive carnage and gore, or at least by my standard. Those who get easily offended or upset by these kinds of situations should think twice before reading this fic. You have been warned.

**-S-**

Chapter Four

_Diagon Alley, July 28, 1998, Tuesday_

As Harry climbed the stairs leading to the main entrance of Gringotts, Aurors who were patrolling the area regarded him suspiciously. He scoffed internally. These rookies employed by the Ministry wouldn't last two seconds against him. He ignored the idiots and their idiotic looks as he crossed the marble floor to the huge doors of the bank.

Although Amelia Bones replaced Scrimgeour as the Minister of Magic for the time being, there were still some corrupt and power-hungry politicians that survived the war.

Dolores Umbridge for instance, was certainly the person he hated most that isn't a supporter of Voldemort's. The bitch had tried to approach him on the rare occasion he was out of Grimmauld Place to buy some supplies. Like a two-faced fool that she is, she simpered and latched on to him like a parasite, hoping to get in his favor. Just like the other twits who are seeking to take advantage of either his wealth or popularity. Knowing the woman, it was probably both. Harry felt a familiar wave of satisfaction as he recalled the fat woman thrown back as he cursed her with the most painful, bordering on legal spell he knew.

Suffice to say that she won't be bothering him any longer.

A dozen or so agitated witches and wizards were assembled in a line, waiting for their turn to enter the bank. The line moved slowly as a goblin at the front conducted a thorough cross-examination of each person that had business with Gringotts.

Disregarding the combination of mutinous and jealous looks he received from those at the line, he passed the throng of hassled people and headed directly to the front.

A dozen of goblins, instead of dressed in their usual uniform of scarlet and gold, were clad in full battle armor regalia, complete with spears and swords guarded the burnished bronze doors. It was blatant that they weren't taking any chances. The goblins had also suffered in the war, and it looks like they were much more sensible than wizards at the moment.

Tensing as they saw him completely bypass the line, the one that seemed to be the leader spoke in a scratchy tone, "Please go back to the line, sir."

Withdrawing the sealed parchment enclosed with the official Gringotts letter, Harry handed it to the goblin.

After running a sharp claw over the Gringotts insignia of the parchment, a green, foul-smelling gas emerged as the letter unfolded. The goblin read the note carefully before handing it to Harry.

"Everything seems to be in order. You may pass," said the goblin in a much politer tone. The other goblins, who heard him, while still retaining their alert stance, relaxed slightly their hold on their weapons. The attention he was now receiving was a combination of caution, admiration and curiosity.

Harry nodded crisply as he returned the letter in his robes. The bronze doors were pushed open, and the goblins stationed bowed deeply as he walked inside. The poetic warning against robbing Gringotts was still posted on the wall, but he didn't bother to glance at it. After all, he had successfully pilfered the Hufflepuff cup – one of Voldemort's Horcruxes – from Bellatrix Lestrange's vault in during his Horcrux Hunt.

He noticed that other loitering goblins stopped their tasks in order to acknowledge him with either a deferential nod or like those at the entrance, a deep bow that conveyed great respect. Goblins were known to dislike wizards, and for them to behave this way was very peculiar. Then again, Harry was not normal in any sense of the word, so he made no comment regarding this odd occurrence and passed through the silver doors into a vast marble hall.

There were very few people in the hall since only twenty witches and wizards were allowed at a time. The goblins obviously won't take anymore chances at being attacked again.

He pulled down his hood to reveal a face with aristocratic features. Even though he wore a cloak, it was obvious that though his frame was thin, he couldn't be called skinny. His body, while slightly muscular, was still lithe and agile. His midnight-colored hair was tied loosely, reaching just below his broad shoulders. With his striking appearance, graceful movements, and his glinting, emerald eyes, the witches, regardless of their marital status, could not help but stare as he passed by them.

Although Harry looked straight ahead, he could feel the eyes of both the goblins that had turned from their work, and the wizards making transactions. Going to the counter, Harry spoke to a free goblin, "I have a meeting with Heldok from the Inheritance Department at eleven o'clock. Tell him Harry Potter is here to see him."

"You have something to verify your identity, sir?" asked the goblin in an oily voice while raking his yellowish eyes at the forehead devoid of any blemishes, lightning-shaped scar or otherwise. Harry felt a flash of dislike at this particular goblin.

Having a Morphanima as an Animagus, he found out quickly after successfully changing into one, has its advantages. Although he wasn't a real Metamorphagus like Tonks, he could still changing small aspects of his physical appearance. Just by concentrating hard enough, Harry was able to cover a new layer of skin over his scar, and tame his hair. And if he wished to he could change small aspects of his body such as eye color and shape, hair length and color, his height and the other small details.

After years of standing out, he finally experienced the feeling of being normal. No more wrestling with his wild hair in order to hide his scar or ducking his head to avoid being mobbed.

Although all of the Metamorphagi residing in the country were tracked down and were required to register in the Ministry of Magic, Harry's name cannot be found on the list. He figured that if, by some impossibly unfeasible chance that someone from the Ministry would find out and use it against him in court, he could just state that there has never been a regulation that concerned the Morphanima species except for its illegal hunting.

He had studied the existing laws dating from the present to some obscure ones made during the reign of the Wizard Council in circa 30 B.C., and found loopholes in order to deflect any kind of charges that the Ministry could bring against him.

Sneering slightly at the three-footed creature in front of him, Harry maintained his look of cold disdain. The goblin felt unnerved at the wizard's long silence. Nervously fidgeting, he tried not to stare at the piercing eyes that seemed to bore into his mind.

Harry let a dangerous smirk on his face as he felt the goblin's fear. The goblin's face paled. His involuntary passive Legilimency, a side-effect of practicing mind magic for nearly three years, allow him to feel the emotions of others. It became a big problem when it came into crowds. He suffered massive headaches during his times in the Great Hall. But by practicing Occlumency, he was able to block of the unwanted sensations. Although he wasn't extending his senses very much, the terrified feeling washed through him.

Impatient, he handed the fearful goblin same letter he showed the guards. The goblin read the note, while sneaking looks at the humans.

"I believe I told you to inform Mr. Heldok of my presence, did I not?" he said silkily in a smooth, lower voice edged with the barest traces of threats. The young witch who heard him fainted. As the girl's companions rushed towards her, the clerk goblin hastily rang the bell on his desk. A goblin appeared from the door on the far right side of the large room.

"Brogan, accompany Mr. Potter to the office of the Head of the Inheritance Department," addressed the goblin to the lesser goblin in a slightly shaky voice. The intimidating wizard nodded tersely at the goblin at the counter as the new goblin gestured for him to follow. Harry went after the goblin towards one of the doors leading of the hall.

Harry knew his presence made this goblin nervous, more so than the other one. _They must be the younger one, _he thought absently. His guide could barely walk straight. Each step was hesitantly taken, and the disfigured hands twitched every so often.

For the goblin it seemed that the walk to the Inheritance Department took forever. The skin at the back of his neck prickled as he felt the wizard's gaze on his back. When the Dark Lord returned for the second time in the Wizarding world, he had sent many of his servants to coerce goblins of high positions to support him. He need not say the fate of those who refused. No one was safe then. Danger had been everywhere then. And this man can definitely called dangerous.

Instead of going to the narrow stone passageway with flaming torches where the small carts were found, they ventured to another hall. Their footsteps resounded throughout the large empty chamber. The interior design was far more superior and sophisticated than the lobby. Although it was less bright, Harry could clearly see in the architecture of the hall. While the flooring in the reception area was only of plain polished marble, the floor made of various gems, making an enormous mosaic of goblin culture, wars and artifacts more than five hundred square meters in area.

The marble walls were lined with tapestries, each showing different goblins in suites of armor in different places. Although the one all had in common was somewhere in the backdrop, flowing blood was clearly depicted. Harry figured those were the leaders of the goblin rebellions that Binns kept on nattering about.

After seventeen years of teaching as a ghost, the professor finally moved on when a student, a first year Gryffindor – a Muggleborn to be exact – unintentionally asked him the manner of his death. Suffice to say that the Weasley twins mourned the fact that they weren't the ones who got read of Binns.

Entering another pair of immense bronze doorway, this time watched over by at least twenty goblins. His guide made a small gesture with his hands. The guards nodded and each one stroked the metal in order to open them. Harry entered the room but notice that Brogan stayed behind and was conversing with the guards in Gobbledegook, presumably about him.

He was never really interested at the languages of magical creatures, but it was necessary to learn them when Hermione insisted that he should be the ambassador to different allies. He had met with goblin chieftains, centaur elders, vampire royalty, chief merpeople and werewolf alphas to secure their allegiances and ask for help against Voldemort.

He had also been taught by McGonagall how to speak Spanish, Italian, Mandarin Chinese and Latin. To his mortification – and Ron's as well – his Transfiguration professor had made Draco teach Harry pure-blood etiquette and French. Although the Slytherin blonde had been too eager to point out Harry's mistakes at every opportunity, he had to admit that his rival was a sound teacher.

The room he just entered was large for an office. Every kind of archaic weapon, from wooden clubs to metallic spears, was displayed proudly behind glass cases. All the weapons, after a closer inspection, were tarnished with suspicious red brownish stains. Harry readily would bet his Invisibility Cloak and Firebolt that they were dried blood.

Movement behind a stone desk with carved with the faces of gargoyles took his perusal from the room and focused it on the goblin that had stood. Walking a sedate pace, Harry approached the desk and bowed his head before saying in Gobbledegook, "**Good morning, Mr. Heldok. I have come to discuss the matter of my inheritance.**"

Goblins, Harry knew hated wizards. After all, centuries of enmity could never be forgotten by both sides. During the war, he was able to get an insight to goblin minds after spending a week in their domain to attend talks of alliance. He knew while goblins were generally bad-tempered creatures by nature, they hold two loves. First was power, and next was money. Now that he defeated Voldemort and with Dumbledore dead, he was considered the most powerful wizard alive, in the sense of magic and influence. And he was here to secure his respected position in goblin society by using his wealth.

Heldok nodded in approval at the greeting before motioning Harry to sit down. "Good morning, Mr. Potter. I must congratulate you on your accent. It is near perfect." He gave a folder to his client and took a sit himself. "Now to the matter of your inheritance, that folder contains the list of assets left to you by the people that made you their beneficiary. This can be considered as the reading of the wills, but since you are the remaining recipient, there is no need for the formality."

The goblin watched his patron survey the folder dispassionately, and he hastily added, "Be assured that no goblin shall set eyes on your chattels without your explicit permission, past or present. An enchantment placed on every Gringotts goblin disables them to reveal internal workings to outsiders." Harry didn't seem to be convinced. "Those documents are not written by the personnel, but by a powerfully charmed quill, very much similar to the Hogwarts student records," rushed Heldok in an attempt to pacify his client.

Nodding in approval, Harry felt his businessman persona take over. Opening the folder, he absently noticed the papers inside were elegant and without a doubt, costly. The crisp smell of parchment filled his nose as he read:

_Estates/ Properties:_

_1.) Number Seven, Godric's Hallow – Potter Family_

_2.) Number Twelve, Grimmauld's Place, London – Sinclair Family_

_3.) Wiltshire Manor, England– Malfoy Family (Black Family)_

_4.) Reinbach Manor, London – Sinclair Family_

_5.) Penthouse, The Revere Plaza, New York (Muggle world) – Potter Family_

_6.) The Burrow, Ottery St. Catchpole– Weasley Family_

_7.) Château Sinclair, Castle District, France (Muggle world) – Sinclair Family_

_8.) Number One Raven's Den, Wiltshire, England (Muggle world) – Sinclair Family_

_Lord/s of the Houses:_

_1.) House of Black (a seat in the Wizengamot)_

_2.) House of Gryffindor (a seat in the Hogwarts board of governors)_

_3.) House of Potter (a seat in the Wizengamot)_

_4.) House of Ravenclaw (a seat in the Hogwarts board of governors)_

_5.) House of Slytherin (a seat in the Hogwarts board of governors)_

_Monetary Assets:_

_1.) Potter Main Family (Vault No. 2943) – Approximately 92,998,918,000,000 Galleons (16 percent interest per annum)_

_2.) Potter Branch Family (Vault No. 3217) – Approximately 27,782,423,000,000 Galleons (16 percent interest per annum)_

_3.) James Potter (Vault No. 9239) – Approximately 1,998,900,000 Galleons (16 percent interest per annum)_

_4.) Harry Potter (Trust Fund) (Vault No. 9240) – Approximately 987,700,000 (16 percent interest per annum)_

_5.) Black Main Family (Vault No. 2895) – Approximately 981,894,988,000,000 Galleons (16 percent interest per annum)_

_6.) Sinclair Main Family (Vault No. 1532) – Approximately 57,987,853,345,000,000 Galleons (16 percent interest per annum)_

_7.) Slytherin Main Family (Vault No. 7) – Approximately 892,949,997,636,000,000,000 Galleons (16 percent interest per annum)_

_8.) Evans (Slytherin Branch Family) (Vault No. 98072) – Approximately 47,892,900,000 Galleons (16 percent interest per annum)_

_9.) Gryffindor Main Family (Vault No. 5) – Approximately 337,789,543,836,000,000 Galleons (16 percent interest per annum)_

_10.) Weasley Family Vault (Vault No. 8237) – Approximately 5,000 Galleons (16 percent interest per annum)_

_11.) Family Heirlooms Vault (Vault 4)_

_For the convenience of the heir, the heirlooms of each family are transferred to one vault._

Looking up from the document, Harry fixed Heldok with a piercing glare. The goblin, much to his displeasure, couldn't help but quake slightly at the stare. In a deceptively calm voice, he asked, "May ask who is responsible for the Potters financial assets? And why wasn't I informed that there are four vaults under the Potter name?"

Heldok felt the room temperature drop at least five degrees as he stared into the pair of emerald eyes. As the said eyes narrowed slightly, he knew his silence irritated the man, and he scrambled to find a parchment on his desk.

"Officially, it was the Mortimer Family that managed the accounts of the Potter Family for nearly two centuries, but I believe it was Albus Dumbledore who dismissed Adelaide Mortimer, the woman whom your parents made your administrator." Clearing his throat, he looked up from the parchment but quickly lowered his head as the eyes in front of him turned colder than an arctic blizzard. Trembling considerably, he continued, "Then Mr. Dumbledore took the position, claiming that he was your appointed magical guardian–"

The empty chair at the front of his desk exploded suddenly, making Heldok jump at the noise. Wooden splinters rained down, covering him and his desk. Risking a glance at Harry, he shrank back as he sensed the aura surrounding his patron. The aura spoke of cold rage that scalded his skin like a blazing inferno. One second, Heldok was at the brink of screaming, the next the atmosphere lightened significantly. Opening his eyes, the goblin saw his desk free of any debris from the destroyed chair. Even the said chair was innocently sitting in its proper place, as if it never blew up into smithereens.

"Albus Dumbledore was my guardian." It was said so flatly, so without emotion.

"Yes, although in the Muggle world, your aunt and uncle are responsible for you, magically speaking, Mr. Dumbledore is your custodian." Heldok congratulated himself at the fact that he hadn't stuttered. Bravely, or rather, obliviously, he continued, "I am certain of this. Of course he did not have access to your other family vaults, only your trust fund. He even withdrew from your trust fund every two years since he became your administrator. He said it was for your health issues."

A flash of murderous rage glinted in the deadly eyes as Heldok trailed the last part. He gulped. Even though they were in an enclosed chamber, the wind picked up slightly before it died down almost instantly.

"I see."

Heldok waited with bated breath. As if nothing ever happened, Harry returned his focus the papers in his hands. Leafing to the scan pages, he stopped when he reached a manuscript with a peculiar title, and read:

_The rewards for defeating You-Know-Who are given to Harry Potter by the following countries:_

_England – 10,000,000,000 Galleons (Monetary reward of Order of Merlin, Grand Sorcerer is included)_

_France – 5,000,000,000 Galleons_

_Bulgaria – 3,500,000,000 Galleons_

_Scotland – 900,000,000 Galleons_

_Ireland – 750,000,000 Galleons_

_Germany – 525,000,000 Galleons_

_Poland – 520,500,000 Galleons_

_Italy – 520,000,000 Galleons_

_United States of America – 500,000,000 Galleons_

_Canada – 250,000,000 Galleons_

_Romania – 200,000,000 Galleons_

_Greece – 100,000,000 Galleons_

_The transactions shall be completed on the twenty-eighth of July. The funds shall be deposited in a separate vault under the name of Lord Harry James Potter._

Raising his eyebrows fractionally, he returned to the first page, and watched as golden ink added the said vault under the list of his financial assets.

Silence filled the room, broken occasionally by a rustle of parchment. At last, after nearly thirty minutes, Harry put down the folder and looked up to gaze at Heldok. "It seems that everything is in perfect order." Without uttering a word or using his wand, he duplicated the documents, and pocketed them. "Those shall be my copies. Since I made it to be connected to the original one at the bank, I shall know at once should any problem arise."

"Do you have any other matters to discuss, sir?" Harry shook his head in negative. The goblin looked relieved.

"**Farewell, Lord Harry Potter. May your gold continue to flow**," Heldok saluted him with far more respect than when he entered, and gave him a much deeper bow.

Harry returned the courteous gesture by nodding his head and replied, "**And may yours continue to flourish and multiply.**" And with that, he swept out of the room, leaving an uneasy goblin at his wake.

**-S-**

Returning to the receiving room, Harry approached the same goblin he talked to earlier. The goblin looked up from his paperwork, and gulped nervously before saying in his politest tone, "May I help you, sir?"

"I wish to visit my vaults," said Harry brusquely to the goblin. "To make a withdrawal, and make certain arrangements that will ensure my convenience in the future."

The goblin on the counter nodded uncertainly. "You have your key, sir?"

Harry looked at him disdainfully. "Naturally," he remarked scornfully. Reaching to the front pocket of his black robes, he took out a small silver key. He didn't hold it out to the goblin as expected, instead, he allowed the goblin to peruse the key from a distance.

Wisely, the goblin made no comment about the quandary, and after a few seconds of scrutiny, he said, "That seems to be in order. I shall have someone take you to the vaults. Brogan!"

The goblin who had been his guide earlier came instantly. Looking distinctly unhappy at the prospect of spending more time with Harry, he shuffled to one of the doorways leading out of the hall, pausing only to glance edgily back to see if Harry was following him. Brogan held the doorway for him, and as he passed, the goblin gave a deep bow.

Since his first visit to Gringotts seven years ago, nothing changed. The narrow stone passageway was still lit with flaming torches. It still sloped steeply downward and there were still railway tracks on the floor. Brogan let out two high-pitched sounds in what Harry assumed as whistles, and a small cart raced up the tracks towards the two. As he climbed on, Harry noticed that the seats were soft and comfortable, very much unlike the carts he used to ride which were wooden and bumpy. Despite himself, Harry let out a satisfied smirk. As expected, the cart began to move at its usual breakneck speed, accelerating further.

To amuse himself, Harry tried to remember their way through the maze of twisting passageways, left, right, middle fork, right, right, left, top, left, and so on. A jet of fire below the cart drew his attention, breaking his concentration. Going down deeper and deeper, he felt his face become numb with the cold air. A few seconds later they passed an underground hot spring releasing tepid steam that warmed his skin slightly.

At last, the cart came to a screeching halt, and Harry climbed down. He knew his hair looked very windswept, and he flicked his hand. As if an invisible comb brushed through his hair, it became good as new, as if he didn't endure a thirty-minute intense rollercoaster ride.

Brogan moved forward to brush his finger against door but it remained stubbornly closed. The goblin looked at the vault door stupidly, as if expecting it to open by magic. _Another idiot_, thought Harry acidly. He was beginning to lose count on how many fools wasted air and space.

Instinctively knowing what to do, he stepped forward and said in Parseltongue, "_Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four._" The solid, dusty and silvery surface of the vault door actually_ rippled_ as though it were made of molten metal. Slowly an image of two enormous serpents, entwined emerged, waiting for the password. Their eyes were set with grand emeralds, glinting even there was no sufficient light. Harry stared in wonder at the figures in front of him.

It was an exact replica to the ones he had encountered in the Chamber of Secrets.

The goblin stared. What just happened was unbelievable! Although this vault was last opened over a millennium ago, there were recorded stories of this kind of magic from goblins in the medieval ages. Parselmagic, it was called, if he remembered correctly. Salazar Slytherin was known to be an overly paranoid man. He kept his vast amounts of wealth in his manor, refusing to let anyone, much less goblins, see it.

After many discussions with his wife, he finally relented, on the condition that he would add extra wards and safeguards to ensure that no one outside their family could lay their hands on the treasure. Before now, all goblins, even the Elders, thought this story a hoax. How could Wizarding magic tie in with the Gringotts security features?

It was simple now that he knew the answer. It was snake magic, nothing like the magic used by humans.

Still, despite this amazing discovery, Brogan knew that it would forever remain a mystery to the others. As a goblin of Gringotts, the spell placed on him would prevent him from telling the story to the other goblins. He would spend his life listening to stories, theories and conclusions, never being able to divulge the answer.

And it looks like the wizard knew it to as he directed a smirk at him.

Harry turned back to the vault door, after easily reading the goblin's thoughts. He knew this was the first time in a long time that someone would once again enter this vault. After the Slytherin family's reputation was besmirched and they were banished from the Wizarding world, the bank vault sealed itself, preventing access from everyone but the rightful heir. The two pairs of emerald eyes flickered teasingly in the dim lighting.

"_Open,_" said Harry in a low, faint hiss.

The snakes parted as the vault door was unlocked completely, the two halves sliding smoothly surreptitiously. Walking inside with his heart thundering in his chest, the vault door closed again, and this time, only one gigantic snake guarded the entrance. This snake has many names in many parts of the world, but at the mention of this creature's true name, even the bravest men trembled in terror.

It was a stone basilisk.

**-S-**

Gold. It was all he could see. Mountains and mountains of precious, golden coins filled every corner of the gargantuan room. Harry knew almost half of this treasure was the interest alone, accumulating rapidly, untouched, for nearly a thousand years.

Voldemort couldn't have entered this vault. Because if he had, it would be empty in a few months. Harry knew Voldemort would use it to his advantage in the war. Recruiting people would become easier. Bribing Ministry officials in exchange for favors crucial to his plans would require less effort. And only God knows what other reasons Voldemort could have used the money for.

Harry walked on the raised stone pathway, looking at the overflowing gold coins at the sides. An occasional jewelry would catch his eye and he would pause to examine it before moving on. The walkway stretched on for nearly four kilometers in distance, and through out his journey, he couldn't either the floor or the walls.

If he had a lifespan of about one hundred years – the average for a wizard, he could live like a king and never work again, and he would still only use the annual years of the life of royal extravagance at the price of one year of sixteen percent he doesn't have the mortality rate of an normal human, Muggle or otherwise.

It was all because of his phoenix after being hit by the Killing Curse multiple times – and scaring the crap out of Voldemort and pretty much everyone else, he was finally certain that literally _could not_ be prospect of living forever might be glorious to most but the idea of spending eternity alone wasn't really all that good.

Nevertheless, he had been blessed (or cursed), and having money would certainly make his extensive life more comfortable. Harry briefly wondered what would happen if he didn't eat. Would he succumb to death? To the blissful oblivion that had been denied from him? He dismissed the idea. It couldn't be that simple. He would probably just continue living with a very painful hunger pangs.

At the very end of the trail, a small black box lined with finest ivory sat peacefully on a raised block of polished marble. Harry picked it up and unclasped the soft sliver lock. Inside, nestled on luxurious white and green silk was a silver ring with an emerald stone. At first glance, one might think it was plain, maybe a bit too much to be the ring of the Lord of the House, but as he inspected the heirloom closely, he noticed many engraved serpents on the band. Even the emerald shone with unnaturalness, and Harry felt magic – far deeper than familial ones – course through the priceless stone.

Parselmagic was a very obscure branch of magic he had discovered while reading Salazar's journals in the Chamber of Secrets during his seventh obvious reasons, only descendants of the snake founder were capable to wield that type of held many secrets that even Slytherin hadn't been able to discern.

Sliding the ring onto his finger on his left hand, Harry felt it shrink and adjust to his thinner fingers. A split second later, something latched onto the everlasting supply of his magic, feeding on his power, strengthening. He continued his inspection of the ring and ignored the sensation. He knew it was only the wards of his properties tying on to its magic. The moment the last living wizard of the Slytherin bloodline died, the houses become dormant since the enchantments of the houses were sustained only by the magic of the Head of the house.

His mother was a descendant of Slytherin. It was absurd. But it was, however, the truth. Slytherin having a second son wasn't common knowledge. The founder had banished his younger child, when he expressed a wish to marry a lovely Half-blood. The founder was enraged, and banished his son to the Muggle world. And the Branch Family was created. For generations, the family lived as Muggles, waiting for their Hogwarts to forgive them. Until one day, the secret of their true family heritage was lost, and the Slytherin Branch family continued to live, ignorant of their illustrious history. Finally after over one millennium, a Hogwarts letter came. It was for a young girl with startling green eyes and fiery red hair. It was for Lily Evans.

When Harry thought carefully about it, he was distantly related to Voldemort. The idea left a distinctively foul taste in his mouth. The Gaunt family was the progeny of Slytherin's eldest son who obeyed his father's commands and married a pureblood. And after generations of inbreeding, madness finally began to appear in the bloodline, resulting in one mad, powerful Dark Lord.

Bless Merlin for his ancestors who fortunately didn't marry their close relatives, thus resulting in him having a sane mind.

After glancing at the room, he closed his eyes and made his decision, feeling the air alive with magic as wind swept his shoulder-length hair. Harry focused his magic, and in front of him, a treasure box made out of pure silver began to materialize. Fashioning silver serpents with their traditional emerald eyes, he made the snakes weave themselves protectively around the box. They were as beautiful as they were deadly. Encrusting the lid and sides of the chest with emeralds nearly was large as his palm. Then, Harry carefully placed the chest at his feet, and opened the lid.

Raising both of his hands above his head, he called forth his raw magic, drawing it to emerge, molding it to act according to his will. The golden coins at his sides quivered as their peace was disturbed. Rising together, the Galleons looked eerily like a tidal wave, fierce and uncontrollable. But Harry was in total control. Slowly moving his arms as if dancing to an unheard music, the coins, like glinting molten lava, moved like liquid, entering the small chest.

In a blink of an eye, Harry was standing in an empty room.

_Slytherin's wealth is incredible, _Harry thought in amazement as he stared at the darkness at the edge of the stone pathway. Now that the gold was gone, he realized that the bottomless sides of the room were used to contain the enormous wealth.

Conjuring a small stone, he threw it over to the gaping blackness. Counting silently, his eyebrows lifted more and more as he reached past five minutes. At long last, after nearly twelve minutes, a small sound of impact resounded in the bare room. It really was hard to imagine. Galleons filled up that much space. Just amazing.

_First one down, eight more to go,_ thought Harry wearily. Repeating his motions earlier, another chest formed in front of him, although this time, it was made out of pure gold and was studded with rubies. The Gryffindor lion was carved at the lid, traced by a barely noticeable silver line. Harry summoned his money from the Potter vaults and transported them into the chest. The Potter symbol of Lordship appeared on his palm. Fitting the ring on his finger on the left hand, his stomach jumped at the curious feeling of more house wards tying to his magic.

During the third time, Harry ceased to think, letting his mind wander free as a third chest was created. He thought about the Dursleys, about Ron and Hermione, about Sirius, Remus and his parents, about Tom Riddle and many others. Images flashed in his mind. Scenes of Christmas in the Weasleys, Bill's wedding, Hermione's sixteenth birthday in France, and more forgotten memories ran through his head. Ginny's gentle smile… Her soft touch… Her tender voice…

Harry blinked, surprised at the sudden change of his surroundings. He no longer felt the bitter loneliness and uncertainness he was suffering the moment he left Hogwarts castle. Maybe it was because he finally accepted the deaths of everyone. Now that he could think about it, although there was a slight twinge in his chest at the thought of his friends, not the heart-wrenching sensation he used to endure. Perhaps, at long last, he was beginning to heal.

He raised his hands to eye level. Now there were five Lordship rings on his fingers. Harry frowned. This was going to draw the Ministry's undesired attention to him. Something he really didn't want to deal with. Interweaving his magic to the rings' own enchantments, he made the rings invisible to everyone but him. The rings, for the lack of a better word, _sang_ as their charms danced with his magic.

Crouching down, Harry observed the new chests at his feet. The first one was made of a mixture of silver and copper and was decorated with large at the sides, and although there was no animal insignia, there was a familiar motto carved on the lid: _Toujours Pur_. He created it for the chest of the Black's fortune. He opened the lid.

The next one was obviously meant for the Sinclair family. A large eagle adorned the box's lid. Diamonds were cut especially to form a large 'R' at the sides of the lid. Colored flashes nearly blinded him at the sheer magnificence of it. Harry stroked the black bird. _Rowena Ravenclaw_, Harry thought in wonder.

It was hard to believe that he was the lord of the families of three of the four Founders. Two years ago, the idea wouldn't even cross his mind.

The last chest was simple and wooden. Harry knew it contained the monetary rewards given to him by the various Ministries. He made it plain and unadorned because this chest doesn't have any special meaning to him. Just a small container full of money given to him because he killed someone.

"One last thing," said Harry softly to himself. Placing his hand directly above the wooden chest, a small tendril of magic linked between them.

He wanted to spend his rewards for killing Voldemort first, since he actually earned it.

If Harry wished to make an instant withdrawal, all he had to do was think of the amount, and it would appear, either on his hands or in his wallet. But the best thing was if his wallet leaves him for any reason, the money would immediately return to the chest. It wouldn't work for anyone other than him.

_Four hundred fifty thousand Galleons_, Harry thought. His left pocket sagged heavily as expected. Even after he lightened the coins, he could still feel its weight. Feeling satisfied that the gold filled his wallet, he exited the vault. He nearly bumped to Brogan who was examining the vault door with palpable curiosity but not daring to come any closer.

Raising his eyebrow at the stuttering goblin that was trying – and failing miserably – to apologize and explain, he made no comment, and mounted the small cart.

Brogan hurried to scramble on to the front seat. Before the cart moved, the passenger at the back made him jump by saying suddenly, "I have no further business regarding my vaults. Let us return to the atrium."

The goblin knew he couldn't refuse the order, even if he dared to think about it.

"Very well, sir," he said shakily in a polite voice.

The ride was uneventful but Harry was surprised to find out that he had been able to memorize the way back. A loud roar echoed as they passed a large dragon, most likely a dragon. Harry was certain that it was an Egyptian Sawscale because of the high-pitched whistle that followed the snarl.

As the cart abruptly, both was somewhat thrown forward due to inertia. Brogan jostled quickly off his seat to be able to bow to the wizard as he climbed down. The pair returned to the reception room and without a word, Harry headed to the Currency Exchange Counter. His guide took it as an unsaid dismissal, and scampered off, wanting to get away as possible.

Since there was only one open counter, a line of witches and wizards formed. Halting behind a motherly witch holding the hand of a tiny girl, he contemplated his options. Instead of the economy becoming weaker due to the war, a miracle in the financial world occurred. A week after the war was officially declared over, the British Wizarding economy boomed madly. Amidst the celebrations more business were opening and Galleons were surging in dramatically.

Harry knew this moment may be the peak of this rise, and he would take advantage of it. The exchange rate between the magical and Muggle community of Great Britain was currently one Galleon to thirty-five pounds. It was the perfect time to change some cash since he was planning to live in the Muggle world for the next couple of weeks.

Minutes passed and the line moved slowly towards the counter. The little girl, about three years old, with the woman before him peered shyly at his face, ducking her head when he caught her stare at him. Knowing that no one was giving him any notice, Harry gave a small smile. The girl gasped and buried her face at her mother's robes, clearly embarrassed. He continued to watch the child who was barely higher than his knees.

Once she gathered her courage, the girl looked up at him again, and he winked at her. Giggling, her shyness obviously gone, she smiled at him. That was how Harry Potter passed time as he waited his turn. The little girl would look up at him, and he would contort his features into hilarious expressions, using his unusual Morphanima Animagus abilities. And as the child laughed, her mother would look behind to see his impassive face, and return her gaze back to the front, confused.

Harry vaguely noticed that the girl had released her mother's robes and actually moved closer to him. Flicking a momentary look at the woman, he saw she was busy making her transactions with the employee on the counter. He looked down as the girl moved even closer, close enough to touch him. He hadn't experienced human contact for such a long time, and there was no telling how he would react. Would he welcome it? Or would his war-ingrained reflexes repulse the touch? He could cause this girl serious injuries without meaning to do so.

Fortunately for him – and maybe for the girl as well, she didn't touch him. She just stared with her wide, innocent turquoise eyes hidden behind her wavy blonde fringe. Harry gazed back, waiting for her to make a move.

"My name's Lily," said the girl while hugging her stuffed owl. Harry jolted imperceptibly at the name. "Lily Marie Rogers and that's my ma," she continued, jerking her head to her older companion. "My pa's off to get money from our vault. He won't let me come with him. Says I'm too young. But my Alex, my older brother, said that to get there, I have to ride a really fast rollercoaster. Said there are even dragons down there. D'you know if he's telling the truth?"

_Half-blood. Muggle mother and half-blood father_, Harry deduced as the girl – _Lily_ – rattled off, telling him more things her brother had told her. "…even said there are underground lakes –" The line moved again as the Asian wizard wearing peculiar Muggle clothes left.

"What's your name?" asked Lily abruptly, diverting from her topic in mid-sentence, curious at the identity of her friend.

The question took him by surprise, but nonetheless, he kneeled down to look at her straight in the eyes. "If I tell you, do you promise not to tell anyone, not even your mommy?" Harry asked. When Lily nodded fervently, he glanced around conspiratorially before leaning in to whisper, "I'm called Harry Potter."

Her eyes widened impossibly larger, making her resemble an owl. But before she could respond, her mother hurried away, dragging Lily with her. Still shocked, the girl didn't resist, looking back at Harry who gave her a small unobtrusive wave. A grin broke into her face and she waved back enthusiastically.

After a moment of waiting, it was finally his turn. "Galleons to pounds," said Harry to the man.

The old wizard at the counter nodded and scribbled something on a piece of parchment and slid it towards Harry who was drumming his fingers impatiently. "Please fill this out for records, sir."

The parchment was a form that asked for the date, clientele's name, and the total sum of the Galleons being converted. It was also laced with a rather inconspicuous but powerful copying charm. Harry sneered. He had no doubt that the spell sends a duplicate directly to the Ministry of Magic. It was obviously another pathetic attempt of the Ministry to control and monitor the population.

Since all magical paperwork were charmed to only record accurate information, the supposedly confidential files would be completely accessible to people who had the right connections or paid the right amount to the right people. Nearly a hundred thousand casualties in the war yet corruption live on.

Also, a tip from an informant inside the Ministry alerted him to the fact that Umbridge was again looking for him. Harry knew it wasn't for revenge. God help her once the entire Wizarding community, not only from England, but also from other countries, found out that she had been plotting harm against the Chosen One. Even she wouldn't be that stupid. But then again, she was stubborn to the point that her self-preservation was overshadowed by the delusion that he would actually help her become the Minister of Magic.

The mere idea spoke of either her losing touch with reality or having extensive brain damage.

But he knew she was cunning. Although she was a Hufflepuff, she had the shrewdness worthy of a Slytherin. Harry's informer reported to him that one of Umbridge's lackeys were caught trespassing in the Records room without authorization. After an interrogation using Veritaserum, the wizard had given enough evidence to ensure that Umbridge would be locked up in Azkaban for the minimum sentence of twenty years. But after pulling a few connections, suddenly a written permission from one of the Wizengamot elders was suddenly 'found' under a pile of paperwork. The bitch walked away cleared of all charges.

Harry knew by filling out this form, she could track his future activities without much difficulty. So instead, he destroyed the enchantment without triggering the alarm. Harry frowned. It was ridiculously easy. A mischievous scheme formed in his mind. A prank worthy of the _three _Marauders. He could barely keep a grin from appearing on his face. So without further hesitation he filled out the document and gave it to the man. The wizard carelessly impaled the slip of parchment on a small brass spike.

Harry emptied the contents of his money bag on the counter.

The Galleons magically arranged themselves in towering columns, effectively attracting everyone's attention. The chattering voices stopped and every movement was stilled. Gone was the inattention of the attendant. His bearing changed instantly, going from relaxed to watchfully alert. Never in the wizard's employment in Gringotts for the last fifty or so odd years had a customer convert this much money in a single occasion.

Harry knew he would cause a disturbance, but really, haven't they got anything better to do than ogle at him just because of a few hundred thousand Galleons? Harry didn't mean to show off. He only wanted to get this over with. There was no sense in converting money in different installments as others do to hide their wealth. Nevertheless, he anticipated completion of his practical joke.

"Four hundred fifty thousand Galleons," confirmed the wizard in an awestruck voice as he waved his wand to magically count the coins. Three other wizards came forward and carefully levitated the Galleons in to a vault behind the counter which closed as they entered. All eyes turned to Harry as the money was taken away. Harry paid no attention to the stares he was receiving, his eyes never leaving the vault door.

After five minutes, the wizards emerged, carrying a black leather briefcase and gave it to the attendant before returning to their stations at the side of the vault door. Even breathing stopped as everyone seemed to try to lean in and move closer to see the wizard open the attaché case and reveal its contents.

They were, however, disappointed when the man only looked at the leather case for a few seconds before he reduced its size and tucked it deep in his robes. Harry nodded to the attendant and exited the bank. No one dared to follow him. A moment passed and instantly, furious whisperings began, spreading to the room like wildfire.

The attendant that served Harry was bombed with inquiries of his client's identity. Who was that man? Does anyone know him? Is he from the Ministry? Is he a foreigner? Why'd you think he changed that much money? Reckon he's from the Ministry? Those were few of the questions commonly asked to the haggard wizard behind the counter.

There were also some that concerned the mysterious wealthy wizard, though albeit different from the former ones. Did you see his eyes? Wasn't he just gorgeous? Who is he? Did you see him look at me? How old do you suppose he is? He couldn't be over twenty, could he? Reckon he'll consider dating me? Wasn't his voice just the _dreamiest_? His smile was absolutely divine, don't you think so? Do you think he'd go for an older woman?

Knowing the crowd wouldn't settle down until they get some answers, he took the form that was filled in by the wizard earlier. Looking at the name written, the attendant dropped in dead faint.

Loud screams erupted and two Aurors patrolling outside of Gringotts rushed inside, wands drawn. Pushing towards the counter, the wizards quickly performed a scanning spell on the unconscious man. Finding nothing wrong with him, one levitated his body to a waiting couch while the other searched for the reason of the attendant's fainting spell. He came upon the form that the wizard read before he fainted. Reading the parchment, his face twisted in horror before he slumped down to the ground.

More shrieks of terror swept in the hall and the goblins long gave up restoring order. A brave young man dared to pry the parchment from the Auror's slack hand. He read the elegant, cursive handwriting:

_Date of transaction: July 28, 1998_

_Amount to convert: 450,000 Galleons_

_Converted to: British pounds (Muggle)_

_Total Amount of Converted Currency: ₤15,750,000 (Fifteen million, seven hundred fifty thousand pounds)_

_Name: Lord Voldemort_

Outside the building, Harry grinned as the yells increased in volume. The Aurors who were patrolling the streets hurried to the source of the noise. He was, after all, just keeping them on their toes.

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I'm really sorry about the long wait before the update; I had to get my laptop fixed since I couldn't open any programs. So instead, I decided to crank up chapter four in my old, slow PC with a broken keyboard. Letters 'e', 'a' and 'h' got stuck in the keyboard about a quarter way through so I had to copy and paste a lot of things. After hours of frustration, tears, anger and depression, it's finally up. I hope you enjoyed this chapter!

Just to clarify for those who are confused, this chapter and maybe the next two or three tells what happened after Hogwarts Massacre. The real story will happen the year after, where Harry's going to turn nineteen. Please pay close attention to the dates (the year, to be more exact) to fully understand the story.

_Extra Disclaimer: _Alright, before anyone flames me on this, I'll say it now: I did not steal the Harry!Phoenix idea of Jono/serpant-sorceror! I read his amazing stories (The Stranger Trilogy) **after **I finished drafting chapter three. Since he has multiple Animagus forms, Harry can use the abilities of the animals at will even in human form like sharper eyesight (No more glasses!) and hearing, super strength (Phoenix ability), night vision and other stuff.

**-S-**

_Posted: August 16, 2007_

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Reviews and criticisms would be greatly appreciated!


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